


If You Stay with Me Forever

by ofjaylos (jvshduns), thatblueskylark



Category: Descendants (2015), Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Cruella is cruel, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Slow Build, like the slowest of slow builds okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvshduns/pseuds/ofjaylos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatblueskylark/pseuds/thatblueskylark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know if I belong here, Jay. In Hogwarts, I mean,” said Carlos.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I’m not like you, or Evie, or Mal.”</p><p>“No, you’re better. You’re my favorite thing about this school.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mother's Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (devilismo | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (ofjaylos | tumblr)
> 
> Alondra and I came up with this idea one night after she told me a headcanon she had about Jay and Carlos sneaking into Hogwarts' kitchens to steal chocolate. So I think you should thank her. 
> 
> This was beta read by the wonderful Talley aka tlea here in ao3. That woman deserves the wolrd.

 

Everybody in Brentwood, England knew that the De Vil mansion was the oldest house to have ever been built upon the land. Locals and visitors respected the grand mansion like a town elder, and recognized the inhabitants like they recognized their own mayor.

Four little boys and a pretty girl lived in that house, along with their mother and father. Mr. De Vil was a broad, kind man with wrinkles around his eyes and muscular arms with which he could carry all his children at once. He worked downtown as the CEO of the very first international exporting company in town, and the income it produced helped him as much as the locals, who adored him for it. Mrs. De Vil, his wife, was a weak looking woman with a strong personality and no sense of humor, but whose heart was in the right place, as her husband told everybody who asked about her.

Mrs. De Vil rarely left the house; she grew noticeably weaker and weaker with every passing year, and had barely enough energy to take care of her five children and the enormous mansion, which was left to her by her late parents. The house was huge and dark, the perfect place for a married couple of wizards to live. Mrs. De Vil’s parents were too old to have children by the time Mrs. De Vil was born, but they loved their only child with all of their heart, and gave her everything she asked for. Except for the one thing they couldn’t. Their daughter, who had always been thin and fragile, never got the only thing she was entitled to have by birth: magic. She was one of the few squibs in the west side of England, and she would never get used to that title.

When Mrs. De Vil was twenty-four, she married a handsome young muggle who loved her more than he loved anything else, and they lived happily ever after. She never once mentioned her magic heritage to her husband, secretly wishing her kids wouldn’t turn out to be wizards when she wasn’t one herself.

It was a sunny Tuesday when Mrs. De Vil’s parents died on an armed mugging gone wrong. They were too young to die, said the obituaries, but nobody lamented their sudden and unfortunate death like Mrs. De Vil. The only thing that kept her sane after they were gone were her beautiful children and caring husband. The children grew up to become successful pioneers, businessmen and entrepreneurs, and their only daughter, Cruella, grew up to be a wonderful renown designer.

From a young age, her parents could tell Cruella was quite different from the rest of her brothers. Where her brothers were soft and kind, she was cold and mean. She got absolutely everything she wanted from her parents, and that never changed even as she grew older. Her words were meant to cut and her laugh could freeze even the warmest of people. But that didn’t stop her from falling in love. She was almost thirty when it happened; the man was older than her and worked right across the street from where she had her first big fashion job. They shared cigarettes and a wicked sense of humor, and it wasn’t long before they started dating. Cruella was so blindingly in love with this man, she failed to notice she had gotten pregnant within four months of their relationship, and it was way too late when she found out.

Cruella waited for him every morning just outside of her building, he would come to get her and they’d buy coffee, have a cigarette and kiss goodbye in front of Cruella’s office. It was a cold, rainy morning the first time he didn’t show up, leaving an excited Cruella standing in the middle of the street, with a hand on her tummy and no cigarette in sight. With every day he didn’t show up, Cruella grew sadder and sadder, finally becoming bitter and cruel when she realized he had disappeared from her life.

The day her son was born, Cruella was already tired of him. She named him Carlos after one of her brothers, she wouldn’t give herself a headache thinking of a name for the creature. Carlos was tiny and pretty and full of freckles, which, of course, Cruella hated. Back when she was dating Carlos’ father, she had been working on what she thought would be her biggest success. Her newest design featured Dalmatians’ fur on a big, splendorous coat with matching gloves and even a hat to bring the whole thing together. The project, however, was turned down as no one was keen on skinning dogs for coats, a decision that Cruella found ridiculous and infuriating. She tore all of her designs apart and trashed her whole office, wishing nothing else than to never, ever see a lousy, dirty Dalmatian dog in her life. What a surprise it would be to her to see those same spots on her son’s face, a constant reminder that she had lost everything she had ever dreamed of at the same time. No husband, no big life-changing design and a kid she didn't even want to hold in her arms.

Later that same ugly summer, Cruella’s oldest brother, Cecil lost his job due to a change in politics that left him, practically, on the streets. Mr. and Mrs De Vil, generous and kind as they were, left their beautiful house to their unfortunate son, buying a discrete little apartment downtown for themselves. Cruella, infuriated by this and thinking she was the one who deserved the family house more than any of her brothers, confronted her parents. But they didn’t budge, and so Cruella stopped talking to them in the most definite of ways.

As the years passed by, Cruella saw her son growing up. She witnessed his first words, his first steps, his first stumbles and cries, but not a single one of those things made her heart feel any different towards him, and she always considered him more a little pest than anything else. But what could she do with him? He was a De Vil after all, she couldn’t just throw the kid away, not unless she wanted him to be recognized as the abandoned child of world famous fashion designer Cruella De Vil. Her image was her soul, and a bad news article could destroy everything she had worked for. Leave her soulless.

On the other hand, she wouldn't talk to her parents to give them the child even if her life depended on it. So, she kept him. She kept him like you keep a stray dog, or a hostage who knows too much, just waiting for the moment she could get rid of him without being frowned at. But, the years passed and Cruella found some other... uses for her oh so called son, something to get him occupied while she worked at her office downtown. She made him wipe her floors, wash her dishes and her car, and she came to the conclusion that this new arrangement wasn’t half bad. What was better than having someone doing things for you for free because you were their owner? Carlos was hers, and every word she ever spit his way was just a new order or chore to do.

Thrilled by the realization that she could control this kid, she made him fear dogs, so he would never ask her for one. She made him fear her so he would never disobey an order, and above all, she made him hate himself. The kid’s mouth was a sharp weapon, his tongue a knife that could cut her life to shreds if he ever chose to paint her as a tyrant to the world, which she was sure he would love to do, posing as an innocent martyr, a victim. And there was nothing Cruella hated more than the fake innocence in her son’s eyes. 

 

-o-

 

There weren’t many thing little Carlos De Vil could be thankful for, except perhaps for the fact that he had a roof over his head and –sometimes– food on his plate, but in general everything in his life was gray and monotonous. Everything except for one little thing. On the summer of what he thought was his tenth or eleventh year, (neither he or Cruella remembered how old he was) he received a letter.

Breakfast was Cruella De Vil’s least favorite meal of the day, and Carlos suspected it had something to do with it being the only meal they had to eat together. Sort of. Under the same roof. His mother ate lunch at her office and visited a different restaurant every day of the month to have dinner with her colleagues, or simply skipped it when she began to look at herself in the mirror a bit too often to glare at her belly. However, Carlos had learned that she hated breakfast a little bit less if he took it to up her room, leave it on the bed with the daily mail, and disappear. He always had to disappear.

The first time he saw the letter it was laying amongst the daily mail by the entrance floor. He found it absolutely weird to see his own name written on it, the thick paper and deep ink making it look ancient, almost as if it were something out of a book, or even a joke. But his name was written as clear as the sender’s name: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Carlos frowned down at the envelope but hid it underneath his shirt as he  heard his mother screeching for him upstairs. He gathered the rest of the mail and hurried to her room, leaving immediately after having set everything down so he could read the letter in the privacy of his tiny room.

But the contents of the letter made no more sense than the gibberish on the envelope, so he quickly dismissed it as a joke. The first thought that came to his mind was how his fifteen year old cousin Diego would bother him whenever they saw each other, making weird jokes about wizards and magic and something called a “squib”. Carlos was sure he must have been the one behind all this. Diego wasn’t even that bad, he thought, he had his good side, but it wasn’t a surprise that he picked on Carlos. He was so tiny and skinny it was normal for kids at school to pick on him, and even though Diego didn’t attend the same school as him, he too teased Carlos when given the chance, no hesitation. 

Sadly, Carlos was so used to this kind of treatment he had learned to overcome these circumstances with a little bit of sarcasm and a confidence that he didn’t really have but was an expert at faking, so the next time he saw his cousin when Cruella’s favorite brother visited her, he took the letter from where it was hidden inside his closet and approached Diego.

“You’re funny, Diego, but did you really think you could trick me with this?” He asked, arms crossed and a smirk on his face, thinking that he had beaten his cousin in his own game “I’m a kid, but I’m not stupid.” Diego, much to Carlos’ surprise, just laughed.

“Yes, you are!” He said with the thick northern accent that he had, “I didn’t write this, you think I would actually take the time to pull a prank like this on you?” He shook his head as he laughed on and on, and Carlos looked up at him with his eyebrows raised, not understanding a thing. 

“Wait… you– you didn’t send this? Then who was it?” He asked.

“And who do you think it was, genius?” He said once his laughter had died down. In fact, he had become secretive very suddenly, glancing around and lowering his voice as he pointed at the signature in the letter. “It was from Hogwarts. God, I can’t believe you are the smart one in the family. I’m actually surprised you don’t even know anything about this.”

Carlos looked at his cousin, perplexed. He was ready to use his signature sarcastic laugh and keep looking for the trickster who had sent him the letter, but something on the way Diego was looking at him made him think it twice. He was dead serious, not an ounce of humor in his face. Something deep within him asked him, begged him to believe what his cousin was saying. Perhaps, and only perhaps, he wasn’t lying.

“About what? Did you also receive a Hogwar–” but he couldn’t finish his question. Diego had put a hand on his mouth and dragged away from the others, stopping near Cruella’s fur closet, which doubled as Carlos’ room.

“You want your mother to find out?” He hissed, but then he opened his eyes widely and took a step back. “Please, tell me that aunt Cruella hasn’t seen it,” and Carlos could understand the fear in his voice.

“No, of course not,” he replied, pushing him aside. “This is the first letter anyone has ever written to me, and even if I thought it was joke at first, I wasn’t going to give it to my mother. And how is it possible that you know about this? Aren’t you a even a little bit curious about this school of wizardry or witchery or-”

Diego couldn't help but to roll his eyes. “Oh, for– you are a wizard, okay? And I am one too, you dumbarse!”

Carlos pursed his lips together at the insult but said nothing about it. He was actually beginning to think again that this was all a prank, but he knew better. That look of fear in Diego’s eyes when he thought that maybe his mother knew about the letter was real. Diego left with a nod after he convinced him that he was telling him the truth, and Carlos went straight to his own room to carefully reread the letter. He went to sleep that night with the letter wrapped in his hands, he couldn’t stop reading it even after he’d memorize it, even though he still had no idea what half of it meant. The only thing he knew was that believing that what Diego was telling him was true was the first thing that had given him even the faintest of hopes in his life.

 

-o-

 

Morning came and Carlos felt exactly as he did every single day. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the wrinkled letter in his bed, annoyed at himself for depositing on such a small piece of paper such huge dreams. Stupid Diego. 

It was no surprise that Cruella left her kid alone for days at a time to visit her favorite spa in London, and it was as much as a ritual for her as a rest for Carlos. Even though he was only eleven (or ten) years old, Carlos knew that his mother would never, ever love him, and that her fashion empire and her fur coats were much more important to her than her son. So every time she left for the spa and left him alone on their big country house, he felt at ease without the pressure of being her son on his shoulders, without nightmares of the huge closet in which she locked him up sometimes because he had done something wrong, or even just so he wouldn’t bother her. He would take his sweet, sweet time cleaning the house as Cruella instructed him, and when he was done, he would relax on his room with his favorite thing in the whole world: his electronic inventions. He had settled in the basement with an old TV set (he needed its wave receiver), along with its remote control (he needed its wave sender) and a jukebox, which he was planning to turn into a remote controlled, wifi friendly 21st century jukebox. Patent pending. 

However, he realized as he heard a knock on the door, things would go a bit different this weekend. He just didn’t know how different.

The knock on the door was insistent, and Carlos murmured and cursed to himself as he went to open the door. As soon as he saw who was on the other side, his heart both leaped with joy and sank to his stomach.

“Diego?” Carlos exhaled before he was pushed inside by his cousin, who closed the door behind them once they were in the hall. “Wh– what on earth? What are you doing here?”

“This is a kidnapping, slash, intervention. I’m taking you to Diagon Alley, so you can leave with me to Hogwarts this year,” he said before he uninvitedly entered Carlos’ room and started to make a mess. Carlos yelped and rushed in, finding Diego taking whatever he found on the floor and desk and putting it inside a bag that he didn’t have with him a couple of seconds earlier. “Wow, she really doesn’t give you much clothes, does she?” He asked, his hands still busy with Carlos’ clothes and the bag.

Carlos felt his face burn from embarrassment and he took the bag out of his cousin’s hands “Hey, you can’t just storm in here and tell me you’re going to take me to… to…”

“To Diagon Alley,” Diego finished for him.

“Yeah, that. I can’t go there! My mom would be furious.”

Diego stopped what he was doing and turned to face Carlos, a smirk on his face.

“Did I happen to mention that Hogwarts is an ancient castle in Ireland, or Scotland or somewhere in between that nobody can see because there are like, a bunch of enchantments meant to conceal it? Plus, you’ll get to live somewhere outside of this Hell. Hogwarts is a boarding school, you know?”

Carlos stared at him for a moment before handing him the bag back. “Show me some magic,” he said, his chin up high and his eyes narrowed, sure that all that noise would finally come to an end once Diego admitted it was all a joke. “Prove to me that you’re a wizard and I’ll go with you.”

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask, little one,” and with that, Diego produced a large piece of gray paper from the back of his pants, as if he had prepared for Carlos’ question with anticipation. “Now, I can’t really show you any real magic because I already have, like, three warnings, but I have the next best thing.”

Perhaps a little bit too eager to prove Carlos that he was right, Diego unfolded the paper and handed it to Carlos. It appeared to be a newspaper, with big bold letters at the top of the first page that read The Daily Prophet. Underneath the title, small issues were addressed like on any other newspaper copy. “Victor Krum to inaugurate this year’s Quidditch World Cup. To get the details, turn to page 14.” “News on dragon blood smugglers from the Middle East, see what the Arabian ambassador of magic have to say on the matter on page 10.” His eyebrows raised in disbelief, Carlos shot Diego a look.

“Go on, keep reading,” Diego urged him. The first and biggest article talked about a new addition to something called the “International Statute of Secrecy” and even though Carlos did not get a thing the article said, he read on as if he were personally preoccupied about wizards being spotted wearing Chuddley Cannons’ memorabilia in plain sight. Whatever that was. But when Carlos unfolded the paper to read the rest of the article, he practically jumped in surprise. There was a picture of a man walking down the street with a big cloak that had a logo on the back, except it wasn’t a picture at all. Pictures weren’t supposed to move. The man kept on walking down the street with an unconcerned strut as the rest of the people in the picture stared at him.

Awestruck, Carlos turned to the next page to see what kind of technology could be creating such an illusion, but the paper sheet was as thin as any other newspaper’s, perhaps even thinner. With his eyes wide open, Carlos turned to face Diego.

“How is this–”

“Magic,” he cut him off with a hand movement. “Now that you believe me, close your mouth and help me pack the rest of your stuff,” he said nonchalantly after putting the paper away.

Carlos had hundreds, thousands of questions, but he kept silent and made a mental note of asking him later, when he wasn’t as exasperated. Zombielike, he picked shirts and pants from the floor and stuffed them in a second bag Diego had given him, thinking about being far away from Cruella. She had never cared for him, why would she complain about not having him there? She would be happy that Carlos wasn’t there to bother her all the time. Carlos liked the idea of leaving his house more and more with every passing second, and when they finally packed everything Carlos owned, Diego turned very serious.

“Carlos, listen to me. This is all brilliant, you going to Hogwarts and all, but you have no money. Now, I will lend you some so you can buy a couple of books and quills, but I need you to do something else.”

Diego looked at him with such intensity, Carlos was kind of scared of what he might ask him to do. He gulped and nodded.

“I need you to go upstairs and steal something of Cruella’s,” Carlos was about to complain at this, but Diego talked louder, so he kept his mouth shut. “Listen to me, you won’t make it any other way. So just steal some jewelry or something worth at least a couple hundred pounds, alright?”

For some reason, Carlos was on the verge of tears. He didn’t fear anything or anyone as much as he feared his mother, and the thought of stealing from her made him incredibly nervous. But he understood what Diego was telling him, and realized there was probably no other way. So he let out a shaky sigh and weighed his options. Diego had proven to him that there was a… wizard community somewhere in the United Kingdom, so the thought of being a wizard himself wasn’t that far fetched. Cruella would most likely be furious with him for leaving her without her permission, but what could he do to him if he wasn’t around? And finally, he was so incredibly depressed in that huge, empty house he had grown tired of it all, and he was just eleven. Or ten. So, with tears in his big brown eyes, he went upstairs and into his mother’s room.

Just as dark and as cold as his mother, Cruella’s room made Carlos’ hands tremble and his heart beat so quickly and so loudly he thought he’d have a heart attack right then and there. On the far end of the room, Cruella had a vanity full of perfumes, jewelry and make-up that probably represented her second favorite thing after her furs and fashion label. Feeling the pressure of the whole universe on his lithe shoulders, Carlos reached for a couple of the most expensive looking necklaces, having the irrational thought that Cruella might burst in at any given moment. When he had gathered a couple of necklaces and earrings, he put them all in his pocket and made his way downstairs, a couple of tears still fresh on his eyes. Diego was waiting for him at the door, bags ready.

“Attaboy,” he said with a smile and a ruffle to Carlos’ hair. “Let’s bounce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story also has its own tumblr (!) so please visit at if-you-stay-with-me-for-ever | tumblr


	2. Blue Haired Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (devilismo | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (ofjaylos | tumblr)
> 
> We just can't wait to get to the good stuff, but for now please enjoy Carlos being a confused little cinnamon roll. 
> 
> This was beta read by the wonderful Talley aka tlea here in ao3. That woman deserves the world.

The Leaky Cauldron was nothing like Carlos had expected it to be. Diego had told him the small pub wouldn’t be anything spectacular as it was just a disguise to hide the true entrance to Diagon Alley, but Carlos was amazed nonetheless by all the people he saw once inside wearing strange old robes and using unusual devices to do even more unusual things. He had expected it to look like a normal pub, with bright lighting and a big plasma TV hanging from somewhere playing the game of the season; he wasn’t ready to be received to the magical world by a dark, almost gloomy and cold establishment with old tables and a chandelier hanging precariously from above their heads.

Diego didn’t let him ask much about the place, nor did he allowed him to hang around to see the wizards and witches talking and waving their wands in the air. He guided him with a hand on his back through the tiny pub until they reached a small skylight at the far end of the dingy place that was empty except for some bags of junk in a corner. Carlos looked at his cousin with a frown on his face, to which Diego just held up a hand to let him know that he was about to do something. He stepped closer to the wall in front of them and with the tip of his wand, he poked some bricks which in response started to turn and readjust themselves, creating a small entrance to what Carlos thought was the most unreal thing he had seen in his life.

The awe in his face was similar to that of a kid who just received a puppy for Christmas, his eyes wide open as if he were trying to look at everything all at once, at all the people and their clothes and the stores and the obvious magic that was present everywhere in Diagon Alley. He still needed practically everything to be explained to him, but still, it was all mesmerizing to watch. He had not walked more than five minutes between what felt like thousands of people coming in and out of the different stores when he realized that Diego had walked way past in front of him without looking back, leaving Carlos behind and barely able to see him.

Reaching a sudden stop in front of a store of old looking books, his cousin turned around to see Carlos, a smile on his lips. "Go buy the books that are on your list," he said, pointing at  Carlos' pocket where he had put the list of supplies he needed to buy when they left the house barely an hour earlier. “I’ll be back in time to help you pay, I need to go change your jewelry for actual money,” and with that, he turned his back at him again and got lost within the sea of pointy hats that made their way up and down the narrow street.

Carlos tried to call after him, suddenly overwhelmed by everything around him without the reassurance of Diego’s presence there to guide him through it, but he received no answer. Pursing his lips, a little bit mad at Diego for his careless attitude, Carlos walked into the store and set his mind to find his books, looking at the supply list and the books it asked for: _The standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. A History of Magic. Magical Theory._ And the list went on and on. Just how many books was he supposed to buy? He had took some of his mother’s money along with her finest jewelry, but he didn’t know if he would be able to buy _everything_ that Hogwarts’ list asked for and he couldn’t help but worry.

He was so immersed in his own vacillations he didn’t see the blue haired girl who was standing in front of a bookshelf, reading the spines of the books in the “Potions” category with a couple of them already held against her chest. He bumped into her, making her drop one of the books to the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, quickly picking up the book. “I didn’t see you, I– I was looking at this,” he excused himself,  raising his supplies list so she could see it, an awkward smile on his face.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said the girl with a soft laugh as she turned to face him, but her smile vanished as soon as she got to look at him properly. The girl, who seemed to be only a year or two older than he was, stared at him for a moment, shamelessly studying him. Carlos bit his lips, trying to read her as well. She was pretty, distractingly so. She was so pretty he felt like he should feel ashamed of the way he was dressed; her eyes travelled with curiosity all the way from the tips of his hair to his worn out boots. There was something icy in the way she studied him that was beginning to scare him a little, but the smile she gave him when she was apparently done was enough to stop making him feel threatened.

“You are a muggleborn, aren’t you?” She finally asked with the same sweet tone, taking the book from Carlos’ hands, a smile on her face again as if that were the most common of questions.

“Sorry, a what?” Carlos pursed his eyebrows, his whole demeanour protective again. Was she _insulting_ him for accidentally bumping into her? Rude.

“You are,” she replied with a smile. “A muggleborn. That’s a wizard who is born from non-magical parents, muggles,” she said as simply as that.

“Oh…” he replied, his face turning red from the embarrassment of his misunderstanding. “A muggle is a person without magic, then?”

The girl with the blue hair nodded. “Exactly, you caught it quickly!” She praised him before she held her chin high, reaching out her hand to him. With the confidence of someone much older than she actually was, she introduced herself. As proud and royal-esque as a thirteen year old can get. “I’m Evie, Evie Blau.”

She pronounced it as “blah-oo”. Carlos found it kind of funny, but then again, his last name was De Vil.

“I’m Carlos De Vil” he said with a timid smile, shaking her hand.

“Hey, are you a relative of Diego De Vil?” She asked him before immediately rolling her eyes. “Well, duh. How many De Vil’s could there be in our school, right?”

Carlos chuckled, already liking this girl. “Well, we are a small family,” he kept his smile until a question started to bug him from the back of his mind. “Wait, but how did you know I was a mug– mugglo...”

“A muggleborn?” she finished for him. “Oh, it was easy. By your clothes, of course!” She pointed at his black jacket and white shirt and then to her dark blue dress. Carlos thought she didn’t look much different than him, but upon analyzing Evie’s clothes, he realized small differences that meant everything. His mother would’ve been proud, he thought sarcastically. The dress she was wearing was knee-length and plain as far as he could tell, and the fabric looked really thick, not at all something you’d see on London’s stores. Over it, Evie was wearing a small cloak from the same fabric and a big red pendant hanged from a thin silver chain to finish the look. “The fashion is different in the muggle world. I kinda like it, it’s cool, even though my mother loves her witchy look. I don’t know, I feel like here in the muggle world we’re missing a little bit of punk and rock and roll, you know what I mean?”

It took a couple of seconds for Carlos to catch up with what she was saying, but he actually agreed with her. Being the son of a fashion designer could have its advantages, who would have thought? As soon as he told Evie about his mother’s fashion label, they just couldn’t stop, both of them immersing themselves in the fashion world, discussing their favourite colors and items, fabrics and prints. Carlos found himself enjoying this, and even though fashion was something he automatically linked to his mother, this time he didn’t even think about her.

“Anyway, that’s why I asked my mother to send me a sewing machine to the school.” She finished with a smile. Apparently remembering why she was there in the first place, she put a hand on her forehead and gasped. “Merlin! I still need to buy the books and a new uniform!” She exclaimed.

The sudden reminder made him gasp as well. “I totally forgot about that, too!” He turned his eyes to the list again, struggling to understand where he was supposed to buy all that.

“Do you need help with that?” Evie asked him, gathering the books that she needed. Carlos just nodded with an embarrassed smile on his face. Evie smiled her beautiful smile at him and hooked her arm with his. “Very well, let me see that list of yours,” she said, guiding him away from the section of the bookstore where they had been talking. She gave the list a quick look and sighed. “First grade. Oh, you are so gonna love it.”

Evie began roaming her eyes through the bookshelves, tossing the ones on the list into a small basket a lady had given them to carry their books. Carlos couldn’t believe this girl who he barely knew kept talking to him, joking and laughing while she helped him with his shopping. Amazed by her kindness, Carlos could only smile at her and nod every now and then. However, this swift happiness had to end at some point, and his face turned gloomy when he realized the he didn’t have money to pay for all these books. Or at least not yet, but Diego was nowhere to be seen.

Carlos stopped Evie as they approached the counter and bit his lip. “Evie, my cousin was supposed to meet me here with my money, but I have no idea where he is,” he explained quickly, too embarrassed to look at her face.

Evie’s hand found his, which made him raise his head to look up at her.

“It’s okay, I can help you pay for them now, and you can pay me later,” she offered, her smile not faltering once. Carlos felt like crying, which wasn’t a surprise for him. Although most of the people in the store and on the streets were obviously wizards and witches, none of them, Carlos thought, could ever shine as brightly as Evie did in that exact moment, even if they knew the spell.

“I would actually love that,” was all he could manage to say.

She took the books from his basket, placing them next to her own. The old man behind the counter practically spoke another language to Evie as he charged them, even though Carlos knew it had to be English. Evie handed him several different coins and took the books on her arms, motioning for Carlos to do the same thing. Once they were outside, Carlos braced himself for goodbye.

“Evie, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m glad I could help you! Besides, you have made this afternoon worthwhile, my friends aren’t here yet and I thought I was going to die of solitude.” Carlos didn’t know how to react to this, no one had ever done anything this nice for him before out of the goodness of their heart, and he was overwhelmed by her charity.

Evie kept smiling at Carlos as if he were some kind of little lost kid. Although, come to think of it, that’s exactly what he was. He stared back at her until, finally, she laughed and stood next to him, grabbing the piece of parchment from him with her free hand and letting out a pleased sigh.

“Now, let’s finish this list of yours,” she said, looking down at Carlos. He had never met anyone as outgoing as this weird blue haired girl, and surprisingly, it looked as if she actually wanted to spend more time with him, which he was more than happy to agree to. She looked like the kind of girl who always got her way, but unlike his mother, she seemed to enjoy working for whatever it was she wanted. Like Carlos, apparently.

The day went on like that, with Evie pulling Carlos from one store to the next, buying him everything that he needed, from clothes, to cauldrons and potions ingredients. She even accompanied him to Ollivanders where he received his wand (ash, unicorn hair core, nine and a half inches, flexible). Despite having seen actual witches and wizards, books of spells and racing brooms, Carlos found himself feeling as if he were living a dream or a movie. It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around his very own wand for the very first time, that he understood the grandness of this new found world. Time seemed to stop and something inside of him shifted. He suddenly felt important and strong. Perhaps it was the magic within him finally waking up, he thought.

From then on, Carlos’s smile never left his face. Around four o’clock, they left the last store with every single thing the list required him to buy. The street was much more empty, the  stone walls shining orange, capturing the sunlight in the most beautiful way. “I cannot thank you enough for this, Evie. You have been too nice to me,” he said, looking at all his bags full with everything he needed, and even a little extra.

“It was nothing,” she smirked. “You just have to promise me one thing, though.”

“Yes, of course, anything! Whatever you want,” Carlos replied solemnly.

“You need to promise me that you, little pumpkin, will sit with me and my friends on our first lunch at Hogwarts, alright?”

Carlos smiled widely, nodding. “Of course! I would love that!”

As her last act of kindness that day, Evie invited Carlos to have an ice cream with her. Carlos agreed, thinking he’d have to wait for his cousin to finally make an appearance anyway. They sat outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour with two huge ice cream cones just as the sun began to set. Evie told Carlos about her mom and her best friend Mal, and Carlos told her about Diego and his lack of friends.

“Speaking of the devil!” Carlos laughed at his own joke as his cousin made his way to where they were sitting.

“I have been looking for you _everywhere_ , you git!” Diego’s nostrils were flaring, but Evie could tell he had been very worried about Carlos. He looked at her as if he had just realized she was there and offered her a lopsided smile. “Hey, I know you. Ravenclaw, isn’t it?”

Evile laughed nervously and nodded, shooting Carlos a funny look. The three of them catted for a while and Carlos had never felt as warm nor as happy.

 

-o-

 

This was _so_ like Mal. Every time Evie, Jay and Mal agreed on meeting at certain time or place, Mal would always keep Jay and Evie waiting until she showed up at the last minute with a smug smile on her face and a cup of coffee in her hand. Mal sure drank a lot of coffee for a petite thirteen year old girl.

Two more minutes and the doors to the Hogwarts Express would close and Mal had yet to make an appearance. The best places in the train would already be taken, Jay thought, and they would have to share a compartment with a magic chess club nerd, or something.

Evie placed a manicured hand on Jay’s shoulder and tried to calm him down.

“She wouldn’t make you miss the train, Jay,” she reassured him.

“Yeah, don’t be so sure,” he mumbled to himself.

Finally, just as the engines began working and children shouted their last goodbyes to their parents through the windows, Mal crossed platform 9 3/4 with two huge bags hanging from her small shoulders and, of course, a paper coffee cup.

“Why the long faces?” She asked in a light tone just before taking a long sip from her cup. Jay simply took his bags from the ground and turned his back on her, making his way to the entrance of the train.

“Next year, Mal,” he began, waiting for Mal to show their tickets. “I’ll be the one in charge of getting our tickets.”

Mal let out a laugh and was the first one to climb into the train, followed closely by Evie. Just as Jay had predicted, the only compartment left was one of the very last ones, but luckily, there were no chess club nerds anywhere in sight. The three children dumped their bags unceremoniously on the seats and floor and sat on the available space left; Mal and Evie on one side and Jay facing them. Jay was already opening a small bag of candy and chocolate when Mal finally settled down and sighed deeply.

“So,” she said loudly, stealing a candy from Jay’s bag. “How were your last summer days?”

Evie, whose behavior towards Mal never changed, no matter what Mal ever did, looked at her and gave her one of her brightest smiles.

“Mom wanted me to learn how to sew because of what happened last year with my white silk dress,” Evie looked down and Mal gave her a mockingly stern look. “So she took me to this charming old lady who taught me how to sew!”

In that moment Jay knew he wouldn’t be able to contribute in any way to that conversation, so he moved to the other side of his seat and stretched out, resting his head on the glass separating him from the train’s hallway, from where he could see most of the kids roaming the hallway, talking to their friends and buying candy with money given to them by their parents for special occasions. This was something Jay did a lot, separate himself from Mal and Evie whenever they started talking about things he didn’t understand, and it was in those moments that Jay slightly regretted not having guy friends who were as cool as Mal and Evie were.

Back when Jay lived in Agrabah, an enormous city where everyday was a sunny one and hundreds of stars were perfectly visible in the night sky, Jay had countless friends with big, powerful families that made both him and his father look more important and powerful themselves. But Jay didn’t consider those kids his real friends, to whom he could confess his most embarrassing secrets or tell his craziest ideas.

When Jafar told him that they would be moving to the United Kingdom, Jay found no reason to stay. So they packed their bags and set off to create a new life. Jafar, Jay’s father, was a remarkable politician in Agrabah’s Ministry of Magic, and had developed a sudden interest in international relations, that finally got him a job at the Ministry of Magic in London as ambassador. Jay knew his father was not the most honest man, nor the best father, but he loved him just like a kid loves their only parent.

Mal’s parents had a story similar to his own, if Jay remembered correctly. Maleficent, Mal’s mother, who Jay had the… pleasure to have met the year he started studying at Hogwarts, was a cold, sarcastic woman whose gaze penetrated Jay’s eleven year old soul and left him feeling freezing cold after just looking at her for a couple of seconds. He had no doubt then that the woman was a powerful witch, just like his father had once been. Jay knew nothing about Mal’s father and he suspected that Mal didn’t, either. But it didn’t seem to matter to her, so it didn’t matter to Jay.

Jay’s thoughts were about to wander to Evie’s parents when the train made a sudden jerk and set off, starting its journey just like that. The kids that had been swarming the hallway started to get into their compartments, setting in for the duration of the ride, and Jay entertained himself watching the first year kids move around tentatively. The hallway was practically empty when Diego De Vil, a fifth year Slytherin who constantly got himself in detention for playing his loud music late into the night, stormed out of a compartment near the front with a small freckled kid grabbed by the wrist.

Evie let out a soft yelp and waved her hand to the kid that was currently being dragged by Diego De Vil, who flashed her the shyest of smiles. Time stopped for a millisecond as Jay’s eyes locked with the small kid’s, a frightened look on his face. The kid, weaker than Diego by far, was once again dragged by De Vil until they finally disappeared inside one of the last compartments, the door closing after them with a loud bang.

“Who was that?” Mal asked with her usual disinterested tone.

“A first year kid who I met at Diagon. He’s the most adorable thing. I’ll introduce them to you when we get to the castle.”

The two girls went back to their chattering, leaving Jay to his thoughts once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story also has its own tumblr (!) so please visit at if-you-stay-with-me-for-ever | tumblr


	3. As Precious as A New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (devilismo | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (jaycharmings | tumblr)
> 
> Even though uni started again for me, Alondra and I are planning to keep updating this story every Thursday. So please enjoy this chapter of complete cuteness between the core four and expect some more next week!
> 
> This was beta read by the wonderful Talley aka tlea here in ao3. That woman deserves the world.

Even though Diego had told him everything about the floating candles of the Great Hall, about the enchanted ceiling and the huge tables for the different houses, Carlos couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp in awe as he stood next to the other kids that entered the bright salon, heads looking skywards where the ceiling should have been, but the night sky full of stars shone in its pace. Dozens and dozens of candles being held by invisible chandeliers floated around and illuminated the other students who sat on their respective tables. 

As Carlos and the rest of the new group of students made their way to the front, being lead by a small woman with a warm smile and a periwinkle cloak, Carlos’ eyes started roaming the expectant faces, looking for the blue haired girl he had met at Diagon Alley; it would have been easier if he knew which table belonged to Ravenclaw, the house she had told Diego she was in, but he had no idea. He quickly scanned every table until his eyes suddenly locked with those of the boy with the long hair he had seen with Evie in the train.

They looked at each other for a moment before Carlos turned his head the other side and decided he didn’t have the time to think of who that boy might be. He finally spot Evie waving at him from afar, a bright smile upon her features. Carlos smiled back at her but he soon tore his eyes away to look for his cousin, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was too distracted looking for his acquaintances to realize that the others students had stopped, but he was quick enough to stop before bumping into one of them. The tiny woman who had lead them there walked to stand next to a small chair set in front of the witches and wizards that sat on a fifth table. Teachers, Carlos assumed. The chair had an old, rattled and funny looking wizard hat sitting on top of it. 

The witch in the periwinkle cloak asked for silence, but the hat did absolutely nothing.

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. Diego had told him that before they could sit in the Great Hall and have dinner with the rest of the students, first years were supposed to be sorted into their houses. He hadn’t explained him how the sorting was done, because he wanted it to “be a surprise”, but he did explain him about the different houses. If he wasn’t mistaken, green and silver were the colors that represented Slytherin, the best house in Diego’s opinion since he was one of them. Then there was Gryffindor, with gold and crimson red as its colors. Carlos looked back at the tables and, as he had guessed, the boy from the train sat upon a sea of red and gold scarves and ties. 

What had he heard about that house? Diego hadn’t said much about the Gryffindors, only that most of the students from Slytherin didn’t get along with them. Carlos suddenly wished that he would not be sorted into his cousin’s house. If that boy was friends with Evie, then he wanted to be on his good side. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Finally, the whole room fell silent and the small witch began welcoming the new kids to the school. “Welcome” and “honored” and “sorting hat” was all Carlos heard from the witch’s speech, his mind too busy trying to process all the information it had been given in the past two days.

Too distracted to pay attention, Carlos turned to look at Evie again. The Ravenclaw table, with its blue and black signature colors, sat all of the “smartypants”, as Diego had referred to them. It had nothing to do with the fact that Evie was there, but Carlos thought that maybe Ravenclaw would be his house, too. He was very good at school, even if he struggled to find time to do his homework between the chores Cruella gave him on a daily basis. It also didn’t hurt that Evie was there and she was literally his only friend in the whole school.

He was trying to remember the name of the fourth house when he suddenly heard his name being called.  _ De Vil, Carlos  _ echoed through the Great Hall. He turned in surprise, feeling the eyes of the entire school locked on him. He took a deep breath before he stepped forwards, making sure not to trip over the small set of stairs and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s okay, dear one. Come on,” the witch told him, motioning for him to take a sit on the chair. Carlos mechanically did as he was told and sat on the tall chair before the woman held the funny hat above him and slowly placed it on top of his head. He almost yelped when the hat started to talk.

“But look here, another De Vil,” The Sorting Hat said in a deep, uproarious voice. “Happy to see that this family still gives wizards. So, where should I put you? Hm,” Carlos tried to look up at the hat but all he could see was black, so he bit his lip and held on to the chair for dear life. “You’ve got a big brain, it would fit well in Ravenclaw. But I’m still doubting... Oh! I know now– HUFFLEPUFF!” It shouted for all the students to hear. The entire hall cheered, the yellow and black house standing up and clapping more enthusiastically than the rest.

A rush of adrenaline ran through his body, he wasn’t expecting that, or any reaction whatsoever. The gentle witch took the hat off his head and pointed her open hand at the table with cheering students. Carlos, startled still, made his way to the Hufflepuff table, being welcomed with handshakes and several pats on the back. A shy smile appeared on his face and  the overwhelming feeling of being accepted into a group with such welcoming arms drowned him in the most glorious of ways. Between handshakes and hugs from more people than he could count, he looked at the table next to him and he could see Evie cheering for him as well. She winked at him before turning her attention back to where the other kids where still being sorted.

There were cheers and claps every time a child was sorted, the happiness and the excitement of the new school year palpable in the air. However, after the new students had all been sorted, the mood changed completely as a woman in a dark green and  purple dress stood up. Her hair, a dark shade of purple, was held in two complicated buns that almost looked like horns. 

Soon, there was a deep silence within the Great Hall, as if the castle itself were scared of what the woman, who Carlos assumed was the headmistress, would do next. She made her way to stand behind a podium with crippling slowness and began welcoming the new students, too. Carlos’ attention started to digress from her words as he took in the appearance of the woman. Her eyes were so green it made his very bones feel cold, and even though she wasn’t that tall, her aura was big enough to inspire the respect a headmistress should be shown. And a little bit of fear. Or, a lot of it. 

To Carlos’ relief, she didn’t stand there for long. She shook the smaller woman’s hand and on the table, where there had only been some candles and empty plates a couple of seconds before, enormous plates of food appeared out of nowhere, full with chicken and mashed potatoes, salad and meat. Food that Carlos had only ever seen on TV or through the frosted windows of a restaurant in mid-December.

He was so startled by the fact that it had all magically appeared from thin air that he didn’t really know if he could touch any of it, even if the rest of his housemates were eating and drinking and laughing already. 

“You should eat,” the girl sitting beside him said as she served him a piece of roasted chicken. “Go on, you wouldn’t want to insult the kitchen elves now, would you?” She smiled at him, flipping her dark brown hair off her shoulder before taking some of the chicken herself and placing it on her own plate. 

“There are kitchen elves?” He asked her, awestruck still.

“Why, yes. Where do you think all of this food comes from?” She rolled eyes, but smiled at him again. “I’m Lonnie,” she introduced herself.

“Carlos,” he smiled at her as well, and finally ate some of what was on his plate.

 

-O-

 

The Gryffindor table was known for being the loudest during the start-of-term feast every year. And during Christmas dinner. And Halloween’s. In general, the Gryffindor kids were known for being the loudest at all times, period. Jay, happy to help his house maintain its reputation, finished three plates of servings between laughter and shouting, finally getting satisfied with a piece of pecan pie, one of Hogwarts’ kitchen elves’ most popular dishes. His roommates, Ricky and Thomas “Don’t-Call-Me-Tom” Hayes, took turns making fun of Professor Tach and his awkward interactions with other teachers but, as much as Jay agreed with half of what they said about poor Professor Tach, Jay just couldn’t wait to meet with Mal and Evie before they were all sent to bed. 

As soon as the Headmistress allowed them to stand up and leave, Jay practically jumped out of his seat and all the way to the other side of the room, where Evie was sat among the rest of the Ravenclaws. Jay stopped dead on his tracks as he saw the small kid from the train, the one who was being dragged around by Diego De Vil, approach Evie and tap her on the shoulder before Evie engulfed him in a hug. From the other side of the room, Mal, however, didn’t think twice before approaching Evie herself to meet her new friend, so Jay shrugged and walked to stand next to Mal. 

“Mal, Jay,” Evie began, a huge, excited smile on her face. “This is Carlos De Vil, the boy I talked to you about on the train.”

As if she were dealing with a small boy, Evie gave Carlos a light push on the back so he would introduce himself, but he merely smiled at them and waved his fingers a bit, clearly nervous.

“Hufflepuff, huh?” Said Mal, crossing her arms. Carlos looked at her with his big brown eyes, waiting for her to approve of him. “Cute,” she said simply.

“Carlos comes from a family of muggles, so this is all new to him,” Evie explained.

“Does Carlos have a voice?” Jay asked, looking right into the kid’s eyes. Mal snorted and Evie hid a smile behind manicured fingers.

“Yes, uh, yeah. Hi. The hat said something about sending me to Ravenclaw, but he finally decided on Hufflepuff,” he said, his eyes on Mal, still looking for her approval, it would seem. 

“Relax, kiddo. Hufflepuff’s a great house,” Jay intervened with a light punch to Carlos’ shoulder. “Don’t let old Mal here scare you. Wait until you meet her mother. Welcome aboard.”

Having said that, Jay turned to face Mal to tell her about what the other Gryffindors were saying about the Slytherin kids, challenging her. Even though Mal and Jay were very close, having met since the first day of school two years ago, Jay loved competing with her about which house was superior, and their little discussions and bets were one of Jay’s favorite things about school. They had been discussing for a couple of minutes about each house’s possibilities of winning the House Cup this year when one Hufflepuff’s prefects announced their departure.

“You’re gonna want to follow them,” Jay told Carlos, pointing at the rest of the Hufflepuffs.

“Oh, right. See you around,” he said to Mal and Jay. “Bye, Evie.”

Carlos all but sprinted to join the rest of his group. Jay followed him with his eyes until his blond head was no longer visible between the Hufflepuff students around him. Soon, the Ravenclaw kids started to make their way out of the Great Hall as well, followed by Gryffindor. As usual, Evie, Jay and Mal stayed behind everybody and walked slowly, taking their time. 

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Evie asked, sounding delighted as always.

“Evie, you’re far too kind for your own good,” was all Mal said.

“You’ll see you’ll love him when you get to know him.”

“What are you talking about? I  _ adore _ him already,” Jay mocked as he poked Evie’s side.

“Oh, tush. You’ll love him, you’ll see.”

 

-O-

 

History of Magic. Double Herbology with Slytherin. Lunch. Charms. Astronomy. Jay’s schedule was officially the worst. He had two of the most boring classes on Mondays and the torture wasn’t over until five in the afternoon. He had had History of Magic first thing on Mondays last year too, and his hopes of never having to start the week with that boring class again were thrown into the trash, along with his schedule. He’d ask one of his roommates for a copy later.

It was a good thing Professor Tach had a strict list of themes he had to cover during his classes, or else they would sit and listen to him go on and on about the discoveries he had made about the Egyptian Pyramids or Atlantis or something like that, and not what they need to know for their OWL’s. Thomas and Jay sat together at the back of the classroom and exchanged drawings and messages throughout the whole period. Jay suspected Professor Tach had noticed that the pair wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, but perhaps he was too much of a milquetoast to say anything.

During Herbology, Jay bothered Mal to the point of making her go red on the face four times, which was a personal record, he believed. That day, Professor Longbottom, after wasting two thirds of his class time explaining them what they would cover thought the year and answering several questions, asked them to work on pairs or groups of three so he could teach them how to take proper care of a Bouncing Bulb. Jay, swift as a thief, stood right next to Mal as soon as the professor told them what they would be doing. He smiled at her from ear to ear. 

“Oh boy, I hope the bulb doesn’t slip from my fingers and ends up hitting one of us on the face. Could you imagine?” He teased.

“One of those ugly plants gets even remotely close to my face and I’ll curse you so bad, you’ll wish you hadn’t come back this year to Hogwarts.”

By the end of the hour, Jay promised himself he would never chose Mal as his partner in any class again.

After having washed his face twice to get rid of the dirt the Bouncing Bulb had slapped into it, Jay walked with Mal back to the castle to have lunch, both of their stomachs grumbling after three long hours of taking care of plants and listening to Professor Longbottom blabber and blabber and  _ blabber _ about even more plants. They reached the Great Hall just as Evie sat on their usual spot on the Slytherin table by one of the Great Hall’s biggest windows, which the Slytherin kids usually avoided. Next to her was Carlos, whose ever-present nervous demeanor, Jay thought, was as much part of him as his freckles were. 

“Man, am I starving!” He announced, throwing his bag on the table and sitting next to Carlos. He wasn’t even properly seated yet when he slammed a piece of bread into his mouth. 

“Ask Jay about what happened today during our first Herbology class,” Mal practically sang. 

“What happened during Herbology class?” Carlos asked, much too pleased at having something to say.

Mouth still full of bread, Jay sardonically smiled at Mal.

“He tried to make a Bouncing Bulb slap me in the face, but it ended up practically attaching itself to his,” she told them proudly.

“What is a Bouncing Bulb?” Carlos asked, an excited little smile on his face.

“They’re these… ugly purple plants that, well, bounce when they aren’t properly rooted to a pot. Little bastards wave their vines and roots around trying to hit everything around them,” Jay explained as he waved his arms around.

“No,” Mal said loudly. “They try to hit whatever it is that  _ disturbed _ them. That’s why it hit you and not me, you git. Professor Longbottom explained that, but you were too busy poking the sodding thing.”

“You should really listen to what the teacher says,” Carlos said, testing the waters.

Evie and Mal bursted out laughing and Jay just stared at him, a fake face of surprise on his face. Carlos simply smiled at him and took a bite of his sandwich.

The group laughed and joked and teased one another, and even though Carlos had to ask the meaning of certain words or spells every now and then, he understood quickly and even came up with witty retorts and funny comments of his own, to everyone’s surprise. 

Jay couldn’t remember exactly how he had become friends with Mal and Evie, couldn’t remember the exact words they said to each other the first time they talked or what it was exactly that they bonded over, but he remembered feeling that way. Like he could talk to those girls and they would understand and answer with a joke or a smile. Like he felt with Carlos in that moment. 

-o-

If Carlos had been nervous and perhaps a little bit scared when he walked inside the stone walls of the castle for the first time, the thought of stepping outside the barrier that protected the entire school from muggle eyes  _ terrified _ him now. He didn’t know that he could enjoy school as much as he did there, and he found himself gladly paying attention to his classes and keeping his eyes on his books and notes. Sure, he was still teased and picked on sometimes, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as back when he studied in his muggle school. Carlos even started to be praised by teachers for his accomplishments in every single one of his classes. His Herbology teacher went as far as telling him that he reminded him of Hermione Granger, another muggleborn who he later knew was known to be one of the brightest witches of all time.

But even though he did great in all his classes, he still had a long way to go until he could actually control his magic. He found Charms was the subject he struggled most at since it wasn’t much of a science and demanded him to learn to control his own magic. Evie told him that he shouldn’t worry about it, that he would not only get better at casting spells with time, but that he would even find it natural eventually.

In the meantime, Carlos focused himself on learning more about the lives and history of the wizardkind. As fascinating as it was for him, he researched on the matter mainly because he felt an urgent  _ need _ to completely become a part of this world that he was now living in, to know everything about it. Diego had been a good guide for a moment, but since the sorting, they had only exchanged a couple of hey’s and head tilts here and there. But Carlos didn’t mind, he got Evie now. And with Evie came Mal and Jay.

The first time he had gotten to meet Mal, he was more than slightly scared. He just knew that he had seen those eyes before elsewhere, but he couldn’t place where. It all made sense later when he realized that the headmistress was none other than Mal’s mother, no wonder she was so feared in the entire school, even by older students and some teachers, like Professor Tach.

Jay, on the other hand, was the definition of “boy”. He was flirty, funny, energetic, and kind of annoying. And, at least to Carlos, he seemed a bit intimidating at the beginning. Nonetheless, they got to know each other during meal times in the Great Hall and whenever the group got together outside by the lake to work on their homework or just to talk and hang out. 

Carlos and Jay became friends faster than you can say Whomping Willow. 

Unlike some of Carlos’ friends from Brentwood, Jay seemed to be interested in what he had to say. He listened and answered and laughed and Carlos suddenly couldn’t even remember the names of his old friends. Whenever the girls got engaged in a conversation only they could understand, Carlos talked to Jay about electricity and videogames and the punk-rock bands he liked. Jay talked to him about Quidditch.

He heard the term for the first time one day after Potions with Professor Odie. Evie and him were having early dinner at the Great Hall and she was explaining him some words that he still had to get used to from his books when Jay threw his bag loudly on the table and sat next to Evie, a smile on his face.

Like every other good-looking kid Carlos knew, Jay’s smile was lopsided.

“Wooh! First day of practice!” He exclaimed, looking at both of them. “I can’t wait to see the new plays the captain has been working on.”

“Wow, didn’t know you could get this excited about anything, Jay,” he said. His eyes were glued to his Potions book as he read and reread the instructions to the potion they had been working on that day, so he couldn’t see Evie rolling her eyes. She knew how Jay got every time someone so much as mentioned Quidditch.

“Are you kidding me, Carlos?” He leaned closer to him from across the table, his whole body practically buzzing. “We’re talking about Quidditch here, how could I  _ not _ be excited?”

Carlos frowned and looked up from his book. “What’s Quidditch?” 

“Oh, boy,” a voice said from somewhere behind him, and Carlos didn’t have to turn around to know it was Mal coming from her last class of the day. Instead, he kept looking at Jay, who was looking back at him as if he had said a blasphemy, which at least to Jay, was pretty much what he had done.

“‘What’s Quidditch?’ ‘WHAT’S– Mal, he doesn’t know what Quidditch is!” Jay pointed at Carlos with a look of distraught on his face.

“Well then tell him what it is, you pratt. He is a muggleborn, in case you’ve forgotten,” Mal replied, taking the available seat next to Carlos. He tried not to get offended by her remark, he knew he still needed to learn quite a lot of things about the magic world.

“Look, Quidditch is, like, the best sport on the planet, alright? It’s played on brooms, and the point is to get the  Quaffle into one of the rings, then-”

“Wait,” Carlos interrupted him. “Quaffle?” 

From that moment on and until they were all back in their common rooms, the only thing Jay talked about was Quidditch. Both girls rolled their eyes even before he really got engaged into the topic and started their own conversation as Carlos listened to him with genuine interest. He accompanied Jay to his room the next day to see his cards collection of Quidditch players, the moving posters that he had hanged on the walls and a picture of the day he was chosen to be one of the two  Beaters of the Gryffindor team last year. Jay seemed so elated and happy to finally have someone with whom he could talk about Quidditch– that weren’t Mal or Evie, who only half listened– that Carlos eventually found himself feeling as excited as he was, always willing to hear whatever new technique he had learned at practice that day, or to discuss the other team’s players and brooms. Together, they counted off the days left for the first match of the year, which happened to be Gryffindor VS. Slytherin.

He had never been a kid for sports, he was always the last one to be picked whenever they played something in P.E. in his muggle school and he couldn’t really understand football or baseball or any sport, really. Yet again, nobody had ever had the time or the patience to help him understand those sports, not like Jay, anyway. For the very first time, he understood all those fanatic people he saw on games and stadiums on TV. The moment he saw Jay and the rest of the Gryffindor team stepping out into the field, he wasn’t surprised to find himself screaming loudly along with the rest of the students.

Evie and Mal were next to him cheering as well, the only difference being that Mal cheered for her team only, while Carlos and Evie did it for Slytherin as much as they cheered for Gryffindor, wearing both green and red to show their support to their two friends. Jay had offered Carlos his scarf so he could wear it during the game, and he had found a couple of green gloves in one of his bags. Carlos didn’t want to pick a side, mainly because Mal wasn’t that far from him, cheering for her team with real, raw passion he didn’t know she had in her. Still, Carlos hoped the red and gold team would win as he watched the match, his eyes never leaving Jay. He couldn’t believe that the kid was only thirteen years old, from where he was he looked like he could be sixteen, and even though he was the youngest of the entire team, it was easy for him to keep up with all of them.

“That was a great hit from one of Gryffindor’s beaters, Jay Almasi! This kid has muscles, mate,” the commentator of the game, a kid from Hufflepuff, shouted into the microphone. “Oh but, the snakes are not done here! Charming has the Quaffle now, Margaret Blake tries to take him down but fails. He’s getting closer and– ten points to Slytherin!”   

All the students dressed in emerald cheered and shouted and banged their fists in the air, and Mal wasn’t an exception. She smiled brightly at Evie and Carlos, which was a sight he could get used to. Slytherin stayed on the lead for the first twenty minutes of the game, but soon enough, Jay and his team scored enough points to balance the game, managing to get head to head with Slytherin. Carlos keep cheering for Jay, his voice almost exhausted from all the shouting until finally the Slytherin seeker caught the golden snitch in her hands and brought the game to an end. 

When they got to see Jay after the match, Mal had a huge grin on her face, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the taller boy with eyes that said everything that she needed to say.

“That was amazing, Jay!” Carlos said before Jay could say anything to Mal, distracting him from the smug grin on their  _ very _ Slytherin friend. “You really were the best!” 

Jay looked at Carlos with a look of surprise on his face. He wasn’t expecting any praising after the pathetic performance that he thought he had done on the field, but somehow Carlos’ words made him smile despite the results of the game. 

“But we lost.” 

“It doesn’t matter, I thought you played splendidly.” Carlos’ big, goofy smile honestly made him chuckle, which he was very thankful for. He took him by the neck in a headlock and ruffled his white hair, the match completely forgotten for a second.


	4. How to Fly And Other Life Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (devilismo | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (jaycharmings | tumblr)  
> (if-you-stay-with-me-for-ever | tumblr)
> 
> 7k chapter. Oh Jesus, oh God. 
> 
> This was beta read by the wonderful Talley aka tlea here in ao3. That woman deserves the world.

Every single soul in the castle, dead and living alike, knew that there couldn’t be a stranger group of friends than that of Jay, Mal, Evie and Carlos. Separated by house, age and the status of their parents, the four had found within one another the friendship they had all been missing from their lives. It hadn’t been easy for the four of them to make friends before arriving at Hogwarts: Mal wasn’t good with people; Jay suspected he had developed trust issues; Evie had always been too excluded from society by her mother and family, and Carlos had no time to mingle among his classmates back when he studied in his muggle school because he was too busy with the dozens of chores his mother buried him under on a daily basis.

However, as the weeks passed and the hallways and classrooms of Hogwarts grew colder, the little odd group kept each other warm with their mere company, defying all odds in a friendship that only seemed to grow stronger.

Most of the students felt Hogwarts was their home, but for this group of friends, it was. It really was.

On what they thought would be the last sunny Saturday of the year, right after Gryffindor’s first victory against Slytherin –which put Jay and his team on first place and made for a great way to bother Mal and dismiss her house’s earlier victory– Jay and Carlos sat at the edge of the lake underneath a big, cool tree, waiting for Mal and Evie who, having lost their latest bet, were supposed to bring food out so the four of them could have a makeshift picnic and enjoy the last sunny days before winter knocked on the castle’s doors. 

“You were the best player out there today,” Carlos said as he played with a dandelion with its seeds still in place, too immersed in his own thoughts to even look at Jay as he thought out loud. 

“You keep saying that,” Jay was lying on his back with his eyes closed, happily accepting the warmth of the sun against his skin and letting the sweat from the game dry right off his skin.

“Maybe I mean it.”

“It’s not as hard as it looks, really.”

“Easy for you to say,” Carlos said with a voice that sounded almost sad. “I can’t even ride a broom.”

At this, Jay opened his eyes and turned to face Carlos, propped on his elbows. 

“You’re joking, right? They’re supposed to teach you on your first year.”

Carlos shrugged and busied himself with his dandelion. Even though Jay knew that flying wasn’t perhaps one of Carlos’ most fervid dreams, the fact that he didn’t even know how to ride a broom made him sad. Incredibly so. The look on Carlos’ face gave nothing away, or maybe he just wasn't as good as reading people as Eve was, but Jay though Carlos had sounded quite embarrassed when he admitted he didn’t know how to fly.

They were both lucky flying was what Jay did best.

“You know what? I’m going to teach you how to fly a broom,” he said before giving him one of his best crooked smiles. 

“No way,” Carlos argued immediately. “I’m not good at it, I’ll probably make the broom hit you in the face! That already happened with my teacher last week,“ he added nervously.

“It just so happens that I don’t care,” Jay turned over to lie on his stomach so he could look up at Carlos, who finally blew away the seeds of the dandelion. Before Carlos could argue any further, they both spot the distinct dark blue and bright purple hair of their friends coming towards them.

Graceful as a flower, Evie sat next to Jay’s legs and right in front of Carlos, placing a bowl with strawberries on the ground for Mal, sandwiches for the boys, and a plate of salad for herself. They had meant to steal all those things but they found the kitchen elves were actually pretty excited someone would visit them, and were much too happy to give the two girls all they asked for. Mal settled down next to Carlos, throwing a big water bottle at the center of the small circle they had formed so they could all drink from it. Before the girls were even properly sat, Jay already had half a sandwich in his mouth, enjoying it as if it were his last meal.

“Jay, your dad was in the Daily Prophet again,” Mal said, tossing the newspaper at his face. “They still can’t find those smugglers.”

Jay lifted himself up from where he was and took the newspaper in his hands, not even bothered that Mal had hit him in the face with it. Jay looked for the page where his father talked about the same problem he had been discussing with the press time after time for the last couple of years. It would seem they thought he was smuggling the blood himself. As Jay read the article, Carlos took a sandwich and risked asking his friends about their lives, which he realized he knew pretty much nothing about.

“¿What does your dad do, Jay?” He asked around a mouthful of bread and meat.

“He is the ambassador of Agrabah in the Ministry of Magic in London,” he mumbled absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the paper and a slight frown on his face.

“And your mum?” Carlos asked almost automatically.

“Haven’t heard from her since I was three,” Jay replied in the same way.

Among the four young students fell a silence that, were it not for the aura of peace and tranquility that the lake provided, would have been uncomfortable for all. The wind was blowing in a delicious way, causing Evie to pull her hair in a messy bun to keep it from getting all over her face. For a moment which they were all grateful for, no one said a word.

“Carlos’ mum has a fashion label,” Evie said, breaking the silence. “I think that’s cooler than what Mother does.”

“Your mother is a descendant from German nobility, E,” Mal said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but she doesn't do much these days. She only complains and checks her face for wrinkles in the mirror. Running a fashion label, though, that’s brilliant.”

“Yeah,” said Carlos in a murmur, looking at the ground. “Well, aside from that she isn’t good at anything else."

"What do you mean?" Jay asked once he was done reading the article. The three of them looked at Carlos with expressions ranging from preoccupied to sad, even.

Carlos smiled at them, thinking that it was best if they didn't know how his mother treated her only child. Cruella was all that he had after all, and although he didn't have the tiniest of desires to go home, he didn't want his friends knowing about that and feeling sorry for him.

"It’s her talent, I mean. Designing clothes is her only talent, " he finished ambiguously.

Evie was known among the Ravenclaws for her unique way of connecting her emotional intelligence with the one she got from books. She was better than anyone when it came to reading expressions, voice tones and body language, which was exactly why she placed a hand on Carlos’s leg and smiled at him.

"My mum doesn’t even know who my father is," she confessed.

That wasn’t new information to Jay. He knew that all three of them had problems with at least one of their parents, but he wasn’t sure why Evie was mentioning it in that moment. Then he saw Carlos’s face and knew why. The Hufflepuff, more expressive than any other person he had ever met, looked at Evie with pursed lips and red eyes, clearly trying not to cry. Jay wanted to help Evie with what she was trying to do and show his support for Carlos so he would open up to them, but the words just wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t exactly an expressive or confronting person. He turned to see Mal and gave her a face that screamed "Do something," to which Mal only frowned and shook her head no before Jay kicked her foot to make her say something.

“M-my mother,” she stuttered, thinking of what to say next. “My mother left my dad when I was a baby, maybe even before that. I don’t know, but the point is I didn’t get very lucky in the parents department, either.”

Teary-eyed, Carlos looked at each one of his new friends, who seemed to be gathered for some sort of support group meeting. The thought made him laugh.

“So none of us have a proper family, huh?”

“We don’t need one,” Jay said. “We’ve got this”, he threw his arms in the air, motioning to their little group and went back to his lying position, a smile on his face now.

Above their heads, up in the sky, two of Jay’s Quidditch team members practiced chasing one another on their brooms. He closed his eyes again and thanked whatever deity that might be paying attention for having sent his father to work in London. He listened as the girls and Carlos kept eating what they had brought and it was long before any of them spoke again.

“My mum treats me as her, er, her personal servant,” Carlos murmured.

Evie was the first one to show Carlos her gratitude for having opened himself in that way with them.

“Oh, Carlos. I’m so sorry.”

“What did she make you do?” Mal asked on the softest tone she could muster, which still sounded kind of bored. It wasn’t her fault, she was not used to comforting people.

“Cook for her, mop the floors, wash her car, all that fun stuff,” Carlos listed as he counted with his fingers. All the while, his eyes were fixed on the ground.

“The bitch,” Jay mumbled as he waited for Carlos to say more.

As much as his father didn’t know how to cook or clean or sew, he and Jay did all of that for one another, working as a little broken team, but a team nonetheless. Sometimes, Jay would cook for both of them, sometimes Jafar did. From time to time, Jay washed their clothes and on other occasions, Jafar tried to. Above all, Jay appreciated the fact that his father  _ tried _ . Far from being the most gentle man on earth, Jafar repeatedly made mistakes when it came to Jay, but at the end of the day, they were all the other had. And they had the world.

“I’m used to it now, really,” Carlos continued. “When I was six I thought it wasn’t fair, but now I know that’s just how it is. I know I have to wake up early to cook breakfast for her, and go to bed late after I finish all my chores.”

“Shit,” was all Mal said.

“Shit, indeed. Carlos, are you going back to that house after the year ends?”

“I’ve got no choice.”

“Is she aware that you left the house to study here?” Evie asked, clearly concerned.

“No, but guys, don’t worry. I’m used to it. And when I go back she’ll definitely hate me for what I did, but it’s not as if she doesn’t hate me already. She doesn’t even remember my birthday.”

“When’s your birthday?” Jay asked, just out of curiosity.   

“I mean, she doesn’t remember the day I was born so I… I don’t know when my birthday is.”

At that, the three older children opened their eyes widely in surprise, as if that were worse than the fact that his own mother exploited him. Jay had to bit his lip to stop himself from insulting Carlos’ mother with all of his limited vocabulary, letting the girls handle the situation instead.

“No way!”

“Now that’s just mean,” Mal added.

Carlos shrugged, he was used to it after all, but that wasn’t the reaction Evie was looking for.

“Well, we’ll give you a birthday!” Evie announced solemnly, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll celebrate your birthday today each year whether it is the right date or not.” 

“Hey, that’s actually a pretty good idea,” Jay said, crossing his legs and reading the front cover of the newspaper Mal had given him. “Today is the...  5th of November!” He smiled looking up at Carlos, who had his eyes locked on him. “Congratulations, C. You got yourself a birthday.” 

“Happy twelfth birthday, Carlos,” Mal smiled, playfully pushing him with her shoulder. Carlos blinked away the tears that he knew were meant to fall down, embarrassedly looking down at the ground and laughing as he wiped them away.

“Thank you.”   

-o-

 

As promised, the very next day, Jay gathered all his Quidditch supplies and asked Thomas to lend him his broom, which was smaller than the ones lent to them by the school, so Carlos would be comfortable enough on it so he could teach him to fly. He made his way to the school’s main entrance to wait for him, and just when he was about to stomp his way to Hufflepuff’s common room and demand for him to get out and into the field, Carlos came running down the stairs with a red face and in need of air.

“Where do you even come from?” Was Jay’s way of greeting him.

“I thought we’d meet in your common room!” Carlos said in between desperate intakes of breath.

“You trying to get out of this?”

“No! Of– of course not!” Jay laughed and pat Carlos on the shoulder, waiting for him to settle down. 

The Quidditch pitch looked far less intimidating without hundreds of screaming students and angry players, and there was something rather soothing about the openness of the field. Jay helped Carlos put his protection gear on, which somehow, even if it was the smallest that he could find in the locker rooms, was still slightly too big for his friend’s small frame.

“Looking good, De Vil,” Mal’s voice suddenly echoed through the large field. The two boys turned around to find the source of the voice and spot both of their female friends sitting down on the grass not far from where they stood. Evie had placed a blanket on the ground before sitting down next to Mal, Jay noticed.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at them. He knew the girls didn’t like it when he went full nerd talking about Quidditch, so their presence there was a little shocking.

“And miss out on Carlos’ first flight? Are you serious?” Mal smirked.

“Go, Carlos! Think of us as your personal cheerleaders,” Evie winked at him with a smile, making Carlos blush a little. 

“Geez, I wish they did that for me” he said, impressed. “That would be a nice change,” he smirked, pulling Carlos to the center of the Quidditch field. 

Just to seem a little bit more professional, he briefly explained to him a couple of theory things that he guessed (correctly) Carlos knew already before jumping right into the practical part. They began with the simple “Up!” command, and Jay knew just from seeing him try that what was wrong with Carlos, why he couldn’t get his broom to lift off the ground. With that same sad, empathetic, almost pitying feeling he had every time he learned something new from Carlos’ life, he asked him to stop.

“Mate, you have no problem with flying,” he said deadpanned.

“Yes, I do! I can’t even get my broom off the sodding floor.”

“That’s got nothing to do with flying. You’re scared, aren’t you? You’re afraid of flying,” Jay said matter-of-factly. He kept looking at the younger boy, but Carlos avoided his gaze and kept quiet. Jay took that silence as his answer.

“My dad used to fly all the time. We had a big house back when we lived in the Middle East, with nothing around for miles. He was  _ so _ good at it, I thought I’d never be even half as good as him. So I was scared, can you imagine that? Me? Scared?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos was suddenly very quiet and pensive, and all Jay wanted to do was show him his favorite thing in the world already.

“And he realized that I was scared. So he forced me not to be, quite literally. And thank Merlin he did,” he finished, handing Carlos Thomas’ broom so he could try again.

“Are you saying you’re going to force me to not be scared, too?” Carlos cocked an eyebrow at him as he took the broom with tentative hands.

“Nah. You’ll do that on your own.”

It was perfect weather for flying, so Jay did. He left Carlos on the floor and flew up, up, up until all he could see was a little white dot in the middle of the enormous green field, and the two colorful spots of color that their friends sitting by the bleachers had become. He threw his hands in the air and whooped and yelled and laughed so Carlos could see just how fun it was to fly. After a while, he was flying for the excitement of it, his friend, with his feet on the ground and sweaty hands around an equally grounded broom, completely forgotten. Soon he was flying in circles and eights and loops and drops from the highest point he could reach, and he was all but scared. 

When he remembered what he was there for, he slowed down and met Carlos on the ground, who looked at him as he bit his lower lip. 

“I don’t wanna be scared to do that,” Carlos said, even though he still looked afraid.

“Then ask that dumb thing to fly up to your hand already!” Jay took the broom off Carlos’ hands and placed it right next to him on the grass once again, expectant.

“Go, Carlos! Go!” He could hear Evie’s voice from where they were, and feel Jay’s eyes still on him, waiting. It didn’t take long before Carlos was finally in the air, hands locked around the staff of the broom and a nervous smile on his freckled face as Evie and Mal cheered him just as if he were a player of the Hufflepuff team.

 

-o-

 

It had been snowing for the past three weeks and Jay adored every single moment of it. The snow that fell all around Hogwarts was soft and thick and heavy and nothing like the little snow they got back in Agrabah, which meant Jay convinced Carlos and Mal to spend their time outside playing in the snow almost every single day of the winter break. 

Maleficent decided she and Mal would spend Christmas in the castle so she could finish a project she was working on with Shang Li, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. That was the first year Mal spent her winter break in Hogwarts and, even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was glad she would stay. But it had nothing to do with the fact that Jay and Carlos didn’t leave either. 

Carlos had nowhere to go if he expected to return to Hogwarts after New Year, and Jay’s father had been sent back and forth between London and Agrabah to find solutions for the smugglers issue they had been having, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every passing day. 

So the three of them stayed and played on the snow. They were kids, after all.

On Christmas Eve, the trio had dinner with Lonnie Li, Professor Li’s daughter. Despite having such a dangerous looking father and an auror mother, Lonnie was sweet, kind and cheerful and got along surprisingly well with the little group. And if Mal found her attitude a bit over the top, she didn’t show it. After they were done eating and the Great Hall was practically empty, they were shooed from there by the headmistress herself and went to bed early, eager to wake up and open the presents their parents had sent them for Christmas. Underneath the big Christmas tree with yellow lights in Hufflepuff’s common room, there was a stack of presents addressed to Carlos De Vil, although he wouldn’t notice it until he awoke the next day.

At eight am sharp, there was a knock on Carlos’ door. With a grunt, he stood up and braced himself before letting the light from the hallway pour into his room. Lonnie greeted him in her usual chipper mood and guided him to the common room, where Jay stood wearing comfortable purple and yellow sweatpants and his usual lopsided smirk.

“Morning, C!” He said happily. “I see you got presents.”

“I do?” Carlos asked as he processed what was going on, his mind a little bit asleep still.

“Unless there is another Carlos De Vil down here, those are for you,” came Mal’s voice from the other side of the room. She was sat on an almost comically big yellow chair, comfortable in the common room even though she had probably never been there.

Jay moved aside so Carlos could walk where the tree stood, and waited for him to gasp or yelp in surprise at seeing he had actually gotten presents. But Carlos made absolutely no sound, he just stood there, staring at the two colorful boxes with his name on them. 

“So?” He asked him tentatively.

“Did you– are these… from you?” Carlos’ eyes were bigger than usual as he glanced at Mal and Jay.

Mal snorted and stood up. “You think they’re from Professor Odie? Of course they’re from us.” 

Jay laughed at that and sat down next to the tree, looking up at him expectantly. It would seem as if he were more excited than Carlos himself, but they both knew that wasn’t the case. Carlos sat next to Jay on the floor and took the biggest box in his hands. The purple wrapping paper didn’t make it hard to guess the remittent of that particular present, so Carlos didn’t have to look at the tag to know it was from Mal. Looking up at her before ripping the paper, Carlos smiled at his friend. 

“I can’t believe you did this. This means so much to me, you have no idea,” he said.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of the paper being ripped as they all waited eagerly to see what was inside, even Lonnie, who watched the scene between the three friends from one of the cozy armchairs. The box contained a green scarf and a blue one, wrapped in some more of the same purple paper. Mal beamed proudly and sat back down. 

“So you can cheer on other houses’ Quidditch teams besides Gryffindor,” she joked. Carlos blushed and avoided Jay’s eyes.

The second gift was smaller than the first one and wrapped way more neatly in glossy silver paper. When he took it from the floor, Carlos knew it was a book from its weight, which made him want to unwrap it even more excitedly.  _ From Muggle to Wizard,:A Story of Self Discovery _ by Inigo Jordan shone its new, polished cover behind the ripped paper. 

“That’s from Evie,” Jay said, his knees up against his chest as he rocked back and forth. He was always moving somehow.

Carlos smiled down at the book and held it against his chest, looking at where his presents had been. A weird feeling sank in his stomach as he realized Jay hadn’t gotten him anything, but he mentally slapped himself for having such a selfish thought. He was about to stand up to hug Mal and thank her again when Jay cleared his throat. 

“And now,” he announced, standing up. “Let’s get to the real present. He crossed the room and motioned Lonnie to help him. Both of them disappeared for a second and came back  carrying a large, long box between the both of them. Carlos gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. 

“Oh no, it’s so big!” 

“Why is that a bad thing?” Mal asked.

“It’s not! Well, it is! I don’t want you spending money on me,” he said in a rush. Jay laughed and set the box right in front of Carlos, a huge smile on his face.

“Shut up. Open it!” He sat back down and rubbed his hands together.

The box was quite heavy so Carlos had to maneuver it on the floor as he ripped and pulled the thick golden paper off, but it came out easily enough. Smooth, dark wood gleamed underneath it. Carlos nervously looked at Jay, feeling extremely guilty at receiving such an expensive looking gift. Jay merely laughed and raised his eyebrows, clearly eager to see Carlos’ reaction. That was something they did a lot, in fact, try to impress the other. 

Carlos made a mental note to start saving for Jay’s birthday present as soon as possible.

There was a small lock on the front part of the box, and a little black key dangled from it. With trembling hands, Carlos removed the key from the lock and used it to open the lock. He let out a deep sigh before opening it. Inside, protected by velvet fabric that lined the insides of the box, sat the most beautiful flying broom he had seen since arriving at Hogwarts. No other broom, even those he had seen exhibited in the windows of Diagon Alley as the newest, fastest ones being sold for thousands and thousands of galleons only professional Quidditch players could afford, not a single one of them were even remotely as elegant and undoubtedly  _ magic _ as the one in front of him, even though he knew it couldn’t be that expensive or else Jay wouldn’t have bought it for him. The wood of the broomstick looked smooth and inviting to the touch, and the word Moontrimmer was inscribed on both the wooden box and the broomstick in silver lettering. 

“One of the rarest brooms there are,” Jay practically whispered as he looked at the broom himself. “I have one myself, except it’s bigger.”

Carlos was at a loss of words. He looked at Jay to try to find something that could express how he felt, but nothing came out. Finally, he let out a delighted laugh and threw himself at his friend, locking his arms around his neck. 

“I hate you so much!” He said.

Jay pat Carlos on the back and glanced at Mal, who was trying not to laugh at the sight of Carlos’ body practically on top of Jay’s. Lonnie did laugh, but it was much much different than the way Mal wanted to laugh. 

“Buying me this crazy expensive broom,” Carlos continued.

“It’s no problem, really, it wasn’t that expensive and my dad has enough money anyway,” Jay admitted, trying to get Carlos off of him. “Now, please, let go of me.”

After a while more of Carlos aggressively thanking both Jay and Mal for their presents, the three of them decided to go outside as they had been doing since the winter break began. Every single inch of grass around Hogwarts was covered in snow, which meant everyone knew they had to wear at least two sweaters and a big jacket to go out into the fields. Except Jay, apparently. After opening their presents, Mal, Jay and Carlos went outside to have a snowball fight, by Jay’s request. Both Carlos and Mal looked like small Eskimos with all the layers of sweaters and jackets they were wearing, but Jay was wearing his pajama pants and a mere thin coat over them, his neck exposed and his bare hands digging in the snow, despite the several times Carlos and Mal told him to go inside and get a bigger coat or at least a scarf. 

“I’m fine, you guys!” Jay exclaimed, exasperated. “I’ve worn less in this weather.”

“Yeah, inside the castle,” Mal argued with a roll of her eyes. 

Jay threw a snowball at her and ran in the opposite direction, wanting to end the lecture. Behind a small makeshift fort, Carlos hid with a snowball ready in his hands to attack whoever went near him, so when Jay was close enough, he received a huge snowball on the face. Carlos bursted out laughing, but stopped as soon as he saw Jay coming towards him, a messy, fat snowball in his hands. 

“I surrender!” He shouted at him from behind his fort. 

However, just as Jay was about to throw his excuse of a snowball, Mal threw one of her own at the back of Jay’s head, some of the snow melting against his skin and getting inside his pajamas, which made him turn and glare at Mal. Without a word, Jay took his wand out and cast a spell at the snowball in his hands. They had established that they wouldn’t use magic, but Jay’s spell had already been casted and the magic ball was already floating towards Mal. Just in time, she threw herself behind Carlos’ fort and the snowball crashed against its side, the magic spell keeping the snow in the shape of a ball. 

Jay laughed nervously and gulped. He had nowhere to run.

Her green eyes glowing with anger, Mal took the magic snowball up from the floor and threw it at Jay’s face. And turns out, magic snow hurt just as much as the normal one did. 

 

-o-

Just as classes were resumed after the holidays were over, right in the middle of January, Jay got the most annoying flu of his life. He reluctantly admitted it probably had something to do with all those times he played in the snow without a coat, but he wouldn’t give his friends the satisfaction of saying that out loud, not unless he wanted to hear one of the sentences he loathed the most: “I told you so.”

He lied in bed for the entirety of a cold Thursday and most of Friday, and even though they had things to do, Evie, Mal and Carlos were the ones who took care of him. They brought him food and tea, took his temperature and made him company. Everyone was allowed to enter the Gryffindor common room, unlike the unwelcoming Slytherin freezing chambers, and the Fat Lady was as used to seeing Mal and Evie and Carlos as she was any other of the tower’s residents. Although they did need to be accompanied by a Gryffindor kid, which usually meant Rick or Thomas, Jay’s roommates.

On the second day of his confinement, Jay felt well enough to go get dinner for himself in the Great Hall. Evie had offered to get him something to eat around six o’clock, but Jay refused and told her he’d be down in a minute. A minute turned into two hours and he knew there wouldn’t be many students having dinner and that his friends would be long gone by the time he made it to the Great Hall. Nonetheless, once he got there he realized Carlos was still sitting in their usual spot, nothing but a steaming cup and a book in front of him.

Jay, wrapped in a huge ugly sweater his dad had packed for him against his complaints, sat next to Carlos and greeted him with a low grunt but a smile on his face.

“Jay, I thought you wouldn’t have dinner. How are you feeling?” Carlos asked, closing his book.

“Been better. I can smell stuff now, though,” Jay said in a low, raspy voice, which was as loud as he could speak in his state.

Browsing the table in search for something he could swallow without chewing too much, Jay noticed Carlos was reading an old copy of  _ Magic: Time as A Story, _ by Araminta Gudgeon, which he had read for his second year at Hogwarts. 

“What are you reading?” Jay asked despite knowing the answer, serving himself a big bowl of warm soup. The smell –or, the ghost of a smell he got from sniffling loudly over the bowl– reminded him of his dad and his weird snack cravings in the middle of the night.

“I just found it in the library. I wanna know more about, you know, this world,” he explained before taking a sip of the cup in front of him, which as far as Jay could tell, was hot chocolate.

“What do you wanna know about?” 

Carlos was thankful for the emptiness of the Great Hall, he wouldn’t be able to hear Jay if they weren’t the only ones sitting on that table.

“Everything?” Said Carlos with a sheepish smile.

Jay returned the smile and ate his soup in silence, both from the flu and the feeling of content he felt next to Carlos. The four of them had fallen in quite a nice habit of going for broom rides on weekends and doing homework together by the lake on weekdays, so far it was turning out to be Jay’s favorite school year.

“Can I tell you something?” Carlos said after Jay was done with his soup.

“As long as it’s not about school,” Jay teased.

“No, not about school,” but after that he fell silent for a moment. Jay could physically see him gathering his thoughts before he finally spoke up again. “I don’t know if I belong here, Jay. In Hogwarts, I mean.”

“Why?”

“I’m not like you, or Evie, or Mal.”

“No, you're better. You’re my favorite thing about this school,” Jay said softly before shaking his head and quickly adding: “You and the girls.”

Carlos laughed and nodded his understatement, but went back to contemplating the book in front of him, a small frown on his features. Jay felt the need to say something, but he didn’t know what just yet. He helped himself to a cup of hot chocolate as well and was almost done with it when remembered something.

“Have you ever heard of Harry Potter? The Battle of Hogwarts?” He asked.

“Yes, a little bit. I know that he defeated that Dark Lord guy, but not much more. Why?”

At this, Jay set his cup down and turned slightly so he could look Carlos in the eye. He cleared his throat and sniffled a couple of times so he could tell the story without interruptions.

“Harry Potter was a wizard like you and me. Except, he was more like you because he was small for his age and quite a bit weak looking,” Jay joked. 

Carlos’ cheeks turned red but he didn’t say anything. With his raspy, low, soft voice from the flu, Jay continued.

“Before arriving at Hogwarts, he didn’t even know he was a wizard. He was forced to live with his aunt and uncle, who pretty much treated him as a slave. He made them breakfast, washed their dishes and wasn’t allowed to have food if he did something wrong. Plus, he lived underneath the stairs in a dingy cupboard,” Jay saw the realization on Carlos’ face.

He turned his puffy, red eyes to his empty cup of hot chocolate just so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at Carlos’ sad face, which made him feel worse than the flu did.  

“But, he managed to save the world,” he finished before standing up, nodding goodbye, and leaving the Great Hall.

 

-o-

 

His first year at Hogwarts happened so fast for him, it felt as if it had been just yesterday that Diego helped him escape from his mother’s clutches and into the wizarding world. But at the same time, he felt as if a lifetime and a half had passed since he met Evie and the rest. Carlos never thought that he would ever find friends as special as the ones he got now, and he wouldn’t change them for the world. Remembering his time in his mother’s house, he couldn’t now even call that place his home anymore, even though he knew that she was his mother, he never felt that he  _ belonged _ ; “Belong” a word he usually associated with objects and where they  _ belonged _ in Cruella’s cabinets and shelves and closets, a word that she used to say when he did something wrong, to remind him that he belonged to her, like if he was just a book in her shelf, but now he knew what it really meant. He belonged, wholly, truthfully and utterly to those three kids. To their world.

But even if he now considered himself a part of that magical world, and that now he knew he was capable of so many things that he had never even dreamt of doing, what he couldn’t comprehend yet was the lack of technology in the whole place. Sure they got magic, but where were the TV’s, the pens, the iPhones and the computers? Where were the video games!? He had lived all of his short life working and fixing machines, playing with wires and trying to build something of his own, and suddenly it hit him that all those things didn’t exist in Hogwarts.

It made him feel weird that they kept using old and funny looking radios to listen to music, and not even muggle music, but wizard music, something they all proudly called “wrock”. He didn’t have anything against it, but it was something he felt needed to change a little bit, and he thought he could be the one to change it.  

After some investigation, and a lot of questions that Evie was more than glad to respond when they were both doing their homework together, Carlos found out that electronic devices didn’t work in Hogwarts, although not because a spell was cast on the school so the students wouldn’t distract themselves with their music and mobile phones, but because it seemed that the magic interfered with the electromagnetic field produced by electricity.

He found it quite annoying that he couldn’t enjoy both of the things that he liked the most. There must be a way to change it, he thought, a way to mix both things and watch a Disney movie in his common room if he wanted to.

The only problem to this idea was that he still needed to sort out a lot of things, he didn’t have yet the entire comprehension of how to use magic properly even if the year was about to be over, and spells in general were yet a little difficult for him to cast. He was still learning, and since the school didn’t have electronics, finding new pieces or supplies was technically impossible. But even that didn’t stop him, he was set on finding a way of somehow, anyhow, combining his two favorite things.

“What are you doing, C?” Mal asked him as she saw his face buried in one of the latest released books about magic history. He wanted to know as much as he could about what had been done by wizards on the matter, and what had to be done.

Carlos looked up at Mal, watching her as she sat in front of him, placing her bag and books on the table.

“Just reading,” he replied, showing her the back of the book. Mal raised her eyebrow, reading the title. She was surprised, to say the least, because that book was something that students from fifth grade were studying.

“Oh, that reminds me, my mother wants to see you,” she said nonchalantly, checking one of her nails.

“What?” He almost shouted, and practically the entire library shushed him. Carlos turning red in embarrassment as Mal just grinned at him, that smile of hers that only meant trouble.

“Come on, Car. Don’t tell me you are scare of the headmistress?” She teased to which Carlos just frowned. Mal loved that reaction from people when they mentioned her mother, and she would always use it to scare students, not that she alone wasn’t scary; Carlos was glad to have her in her good side, he wouldn’t want to see her angry.

He said goodbye to Mal absentmindedly and made his way to the headmistress’ office immediately. 

What would Mal’s mother want to talk about with him? Maybe he had been caught distracted with something else in his classes, although that was odd, he had been trying his best to pay attention to the professors as they gave their lectures while he learned more from other books at the same time. In fact, he thought that his grades were actually really good.

When he arrived at Professor Maleficent’s tower, or  _ the dragon's den _ , as many call it, he had tried to guess the reason for his being there, why would he maybe be in trouble, and he had come up with at least a dozen of different ideas. Maybe she knew about that little prank Jay and him played on poor Professor Tach, or maybe she knew that sometimes he went to the kitchen for food for their little picnics outside, or about the broom incident with professor Austen.

Whatever the reason might be, he was practically trembling when he was allowed to come up and she made him stand in front of the table of her office, the pictures of the many other headmasters hanging over the wall and staring at him, some were simply curious, like the painting of an old man with long white beard and halfmoon shaped glasses, and some others were looking at him with a look of judgment, as was doing the other picture hanging next to the old man, one of a man with long dark hair and dark eyes.

“So I heard a lot about you this year, Mr. De Vil” The headmistress finally spoke up as she turned her chair to look at the small boy. “I believe you are friends with my daughter, Mal, aren’t you?” She asked coldly.

“Yes, Professor,” Carlos replied, too scared to say anything else.

“Mal doesn’t have many friends…” she said, or mumbled was most like it, as if it was something that she needed to remember. “Anyway, I have some news for you, young man. It seems that you have impressed most of my staff this year, and upon watching your grades myself, I have to admit I am impressed as well.”

Mal’s mother didn’t smile as she looked at him, but Carlos couldn’t help but feel less anxious about why he was in the headmistress’ office, even if he was still afraid of her. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“Mal told me that you are muggleborn. I am dazzled at just how quickly you seem to have adjusted here, but this praising is not the reason I called you here today.” She quickly added.

“It isn’t?” Carlos almost whined, his anxiety coming back.

“I wanted to let you know that your teachers had asked me to put you in some advanced classes,  that you would of course attend the next year if it suits you”

Carlos couldn’t believe it, he merely blinked up at her.

“Well?” Maleficent asked him rather harshly, making him startle.

“Y- yes!” He yelped “Yes, I- I would like that.”  

“Good, that would be all, then. You can leave,” She looked down at the papers over her desk and motioned him to leave her office. 

Carlos walked out of the dragon’s den carefully, scare of disturbing her anymore, just to start running down the stairs, smile on his face as he made his way to find his friends. He couldn’t wait for next year to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading and please, let u know what you think of he story! It'd mean the world to us.


	5. Birthday Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (devilismo | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (jaycharmings | tumblr)  
> (if-you-stay-with-me-for-ever | tumblr)
> 
> From now on, Alondra and I won't be able to update every Thursday because of my inability to manage my time wisely (plus, I decided I wanted to learn to play the piano, which I understand now is a horrible idea). But expect new chapters every other week, most likely on weekends. I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> This was beta read by the wonderful Talley aka tlea here in ao3. That woman deserves the world.

Carlos had never spent so much time in silence. His hands were cold, his stomach ached for something that wasn’t food, even though he hadn’t had any in a week. Probably. A mere glass of water was what the only thing he received daily as form of nourishment, but his tongue was dry, all the water being sucked by his eyes, which were stuck in a perpetual state of tears.

It had never been that bad.

He had known from the very beginning that coming back to his mother’s house was a death sentence, and he sealed his fate the day he decided to heed his cousin’s idea to runaway with him to Hogwarts. All of his friends had come up with many suggestions about what he could do to avoid what he knew would probably be his worst experience yet, Diego even offered him to spend the summer with him in his house, that he would hide him from Cruella. But a part of Carlos knew that he had to go back to his mother and confront her, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she would have missed him.

But, of course, he was fooling himself. Carlos didn’t even have  the time to say something to his mother before he felt her cold and bony hand hard against his cheek, leaving it bright red, aching and sore. Carlos traced his fingers on his skin softly, looking at the woman in front of him in confusion.  _ Have I been dreaming? _ He wondered, staring at his mother’s eyes, he could have sworn he saw them turning red full of rage as she yelled at him because  _ how dare he bring her such disgrace, he can’t even begin to comprehend the problems she was facing now because the  _ press _ heard her child had disappeared. _

Carlos should have imagined that this would happen, and he didn’t even plead at her when she pushed him into the dark small closet that had been his room for the past eleven years. After the door was closed and he heard the definite click of the lock, he sat down and tried to maintain his sanity,  _ breathebreathebreathe _ the only thought in his mind for a while. But it wasn’t long before he started to lose the concept of time. He didn’t know if he had been inside that dingy little closet for hours, or days.

Carlos wasn’t even sure if Cruella remembered that she had left him there. He wondered if his mother would leave him there to die.

But even if he knew that he was doomed to stay in that closet for an eternity, and even if his dreams had been crushed by the fact that his mother didn’t show him the least display of love that he was hoping to see, he wasn’t disappointed nor sad. Sure he was hurt, desperate, even, and a part of him just wanted to cry. But he didn’t, Carlos didn’t cry, and he didn’t feel sad or alone because, after all, he knew that he wasn’t alone. There was a huge difference between the last time he had been in Cruella’s closet and this time, and it was his friends.

Before he had gone to Hogwarts, he knew he was alone, a goner, a good-for-nothing little brat that was loved by no one, but now he didn’t feel that way anymore. He could feel the magic coming from within him, like a worm that curled around his limbs and protected him from anything that his mother could throw in his direction, objects and words alike. He held tightly to the memory of his friends talking to him, teaching him the world he knew was part of him now. Carlos felt a strength that he didn’t know he had emerging from him, giving him the courage he needed to prevent himself from crying.

Because he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction, no matter how hurt he was that his own mother didn’t even let him say a word, or asked him where he had been, if he was alright, or even shed a tear of happiness to see him after almost a year. Carlos couldn’t sympathize with her anymore, the time that he spent inside the closet helped him realize that he had never really had a mother to begin with. Because Cruella wasn’t even human, she was the devil, ironically enough.

Was Carlos surprised when the devil opened the door? Maybe, but she didn’t even allow that feeling of surprise to settle; she pulled him out of there as quickly as she had pushed him inside in the first place. Suddenly she was asking him to take a shower in a hushed tone, to dress nicely and comb his hair. Bewildered, Carlos did as he was told, trying his best to not let his lack of energy from starvation slow him down. After he was done, he risked a glance at the mirror and was greeted by an imprint of what he used to be, a thin, pale, bruised version of himself.

“Now hurry up there, boy! You can’t stay in there forever,” Cruella shouted from the other side, slamming her fist against the door of the bathroom, startling him. “I need you in five minutes or I’m taking this door down, you hear me?”

Carlos didn’t understand what the fuss was about, but he wasn’t going to question it, so he hurried up and made his way downstairs where, to his surprise, he found not only Cruella waiting for him in the living room, but a crew of five people with cameras and lights, already settled and ready for some type of TV show, it would seem. He wished he had something coherent to say, but his mouth was hanging slightly agape as he took the scene in. A middle aged woman made her  way to where he was standing on the stairs, a smile on her face that caused wrinkles around her eyes.

“Carlos, right? Call me Lorraine,” the woman said in  a chatty, friendly tone as she walked him to where his mother and the rest of the people were gathered. They sat down on Cruella’s velvety sofas and the cameramen focused on them, and when everyone was silent, the woman continued. “Oh we are so glad that you decided to do this, we know it’s hard for you since you just came back. How are you feeling?” She asked him with sincerity in her voice, and he had no idea what to answer, what to do next. He glanced at Cruella, who widened her eyes and tilted her chin up, a sharp smile on her face that spoke only to him. She was threatening him. He looked back at the woman, who smiled caringly at him and nodded, encouraging him to open up and answer the question.

So this was why Cruella emphasized over his looks a moment ago. They were going to interview them, and he had to lie.

Carlos sat there wordlessly, staring at Lorraine as she talked with his mother about how happy she was to have her son back, a fake smile on her face that was surely fooling the woman. They had told him that he didn’t have to say much, that he shouldn’t be scared of the cameras, and Carlos tried not to snort at that, because they didn’t know that no amount of cameras could ever be as scary as the woman they were interviewing, posing as a martyr. But they smiled at him as they said that in soft voices, and told him he just had to answer some easy questions, that they would not touch the subject of his kidnapping. It seemed that was what Cruella had told the media.

She had sold the story of a worried mother looking desperately for her little boy, attempting to erase the concept that the public had of the cold and merciless woman that she was. Carlos looked at his mother, her eyes full of tears that threatened to fall down as she told the world about how she found her  son missing from his bed one morning, and for a moment, he really wished that all that were true, because at least the woman that was acting next to him was concerned about him, but he knew better.

“Carlos, we know that this was a difficult time for you, being so far away from home and all. But tell us, how are you feeling  _ now _ ? Are you planning to go back to school this year? We know about your amazing grades, I’m sure your mother is very proud of you,” Lorraine said, and for a moment he considered telling the truth, but he had a better idea.

“Oh, I am proud of him. He’s such a good boy, aren’t you?” Cruella praised him with a cloying voice that made him frown slightly, she was trying too hard to be the woman that she would never be.

Carlos took a deep breath and smiled at his mother, then at Lorraine.

“I’m going to a new school this year, a boarding school, isn’t that true, mother?” He said, answering her question and ignoring what his mother said. He was sure of what he was doing, a sudden rush of confidence filling his stomach and chest even as he felt his mother’s icy eyes on him. She wasn’t expecting him to actually talk.

“A boarding school?” Lorraine asked, obviously surprised by the answer “But wouldn’t you want to spend some time home? I bet your mother would miss you too much.”

“She said I could go, and I really want to go to this school. I’m sure we will both be fine if I leave for school, as long as she knows where I am going this time,” he risked a little joke.

Cruella put her hands around his body in an awkward embrace, trying to be careful and natural in front of the cameras, but he could feel just how tense she really was. “He’s very enthusiastic when it comes to his studies, but we haven’t decided anything yet, darling,” she looked at him with a smile that he knew meant trouble. Big time.

“Either way, I’m sure he will do superbly,” Lorraine said with a smile.

 

-o-

 

“How  _ dare _ you!?” Cruella hissed as she slapped his cheek once the TV people were finally gone, but even if it stung like hell, he wouldn’t allow himself to cry in front of her. “‘I’m going to a boarding school.’“ She mimicked him. “If it ever crossed your stupid little mind that I was going to let you go to that place for freaks, you are wrong! The only place you are going to for the rest of the year is the closet, you little prat! And you are going to stay there for as long as I want, dog. Do not ever forget that you belong to me,” she spat before lifting her hand to strike him once more, but something stopped her.

“No!” Carlos cried, closing his eyes, ready to feel her cold hand against his cheek.

“What did you just say  to me?” Cruella asked in disbelief, her eyes distilling a contained fury that only seemed to grow.

“I– I’m not going back in the closet,” he replied, stuttering slightly, eyes looking at his mother with set determination, even though he could feel himself about to break.

“Oh but you will,  _ darling, _ ” she declared before turning her back to him and walking to the closet  near the  entrance door, the one that she used to store her out-of-season furs. Carlos’ heart stopped as he saw her dig his broom from within the maze of coats;  the broom  Jay had given him for Christmas. He had been  sure she would  never find it inside that closet she never even looked at anymore.

He was paralyzed with fear and impotence, watching her sliding his trunk out of the closet, too. She opened it and pulled out one of his favorite books. “How will you go back...” she began, ripping the pages of his books apart viciously. “...when you don’t even have your stuff, huh?” Cruella looked at him, her once carefully braided hair falling all around her face in a black and white mess, her eyes wide with rage as she destroyed Carlos’ books in a maniacal frenzy. “ You think I don’t know about this? You think you are special?” She continued, taking his broom now.

“Mother, stop! Please!” Carlos cried, his heart about to explode. Not his broom, not his first present, please.

“Well, you are wrong!” She snapped, ignoring him and taking the broom by the staff. “You aren’t  _ special _ . You are a mistake, a useless and boring kid that belongs to me!” With every word she said, she slammed the broom against the metal stairs rail, splintering the broom  until, finally, it snapped in two.

But Carlos didn’t even listen to what she said. He was dazed, he felt absolutely nothing, the desperation he had felt before turning into a numbness in the pit of his stomach that, if anything, made him feel worse. Jay had spent  his money on that broom for him so they could play together in the school fields. Evie and Mal had flown with him, too, even if they didn’t even like it that much, just to make him happy. That broom meant so much to him, and she had broken it, like everything else her toxic hands touched.

Carlos walked past her to the door, Cruella’s eyes fixed on him with astonishment and frustration. Just when he was about to turn the knob, he felt Cruella’s hands on his shoulders, bruising his weak body even further.

“You can’t walk through that door, kid, or I’ll–”

“You’ll do what, mother?” He bawled, slapping her hands away with all the force he could muster.

Cruella didn’t hesitate before slapping him in the face again, harder than ever before, and for a second all he could do was stand there, looking at the floor and trying to gather all the strength that was left in him just to look up at her one last time. She was expecting him to plead or cry, but he did neither. Instead, he grabbed  the knob of the door again and yanked it with all his might, causing the door to bang against the wall.

“Carlos! Carlos de Vil you come back here, I tell you!” But she didn’t dare get too close to the door, the people walking outside could all perfectly see the scene, a couple of heads curiously turning to look at them already.

He could hear her spitefully hissing at him from inside the house, but he didn’t look back, his hands in fists as he walked away and mentally assured himself that everything was going to be okay, that he was strong, that he wasn’t going to cry. And, biting his lips to prevent him from breaking, he realized that, if he wanted to make it back to Hogwarts in time for the new school year, he’d have to go somewhere else first. He had a plan.

 

-o-

 

Making lists was what made Carlos feel calm and in control whenever he was stressed. He made lists for everything; what to buy, what to study for, what to read, what to do in case you find yourself nowhere to go. So, to both calm himself down and think his plan better through, he made a mental list.

_Step one,_ the list said: _Go to Diego's’ house and try not to cry. Step two: Ask Diego for directions to the Ministry of Magic. Step three: Get to London. Step three point one: Get to the Ministry. Step four: Look for Jay’s dad and ask for help, while still trying not to cry. Step five: Please, just don’t cry._

It wasn’t an easy task, but neither was getting away from Cruella. Making the decision of leaving her was easy alright, but physically walking away turned out to be quite difficult, not to mention painful. Either way, there he was, safe and sound with no money, no clothes but the ones he was wearing, and Diego’s familiar face sitting next to him on the threshold of his parents’ house downtown. Diego’s mom and dad were not very different from Cruella when it came to social status but, unlike her, they were actual human beings with the possibility of feeling empathy and being kind. It was  no wonder why Cruella hated it when they visited her.

Step one and two got a check next to them on Carlos’ little mental list. Diego told him about the public entrance to the Ministry, about the entrance that was attached to Diagon Alley, and several other options, but Carlos liked the idea of getting to muggle London and taking the public entrance there, so he decided on that one. The next step required him to get a ride, and with some lent money from Diego, Carlos took a train to London which, anticlimactically, only took 45 minutes and a cheap entrance ticket. The whole process was just… mundane. And suspiciously easy.

There was something rather enjoyable from all those things Carlos got to do on his own for the very first time. He used the silence and the isolation to think of what he needed to buy for the new school year, and how he would pay for it. He thought about trying out for Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team once classes started, which made his heart ache with yearning. And he tried to rehearse what he would say to Jay’s father once he found him, because his list didn’t go as far as that, he just knew that that would be his best shot at reuniting with his friends.

The streets of London, as small and cold as the rest of the old country, puzzled Carlos so much he got lost for over an hour, but he finally found the corner where, according to Diego, a phone booth would take him to the Ministry of Magic. He had to dry his hands on his black shorts before inserting his quarter and dialing the number that worked as a password. The booth shook and slowly started to descend into the ground, but the people around didn’t seem to notice the fact that the booth was being swallowed by the pavement. Carlos watched in awe as the booth sank lower and lower, the view of the city being replaced by that of dark concrete all around him and he was overtaken by a sense of panic and claustrophobia, but soon he descended into some kind of huge lobby, the walls and floors made of black, glossy stone. He held his head high and tried to look as natural as any other witch or wizard coming out of the several fireplaces that lined up the walls.

On the far end of the glossy atrium, past an enormous fountain, and underneath a sign that read  _ Information, _ a witch in her sixties dealt with the questions of a group of five or six young wizards and witches from behind a tall desk. Carlos stood behind the energetic, yelling group and waited for his turn. He asked for Ambassador Almasi’s office and the witch, too immerse on her own business to even glance at him, pointed at a board made of the same glossy, dark stone that stood next to her desk with hundreds of names and departments listed next to the name of the wizards and witches in charge, inscribed in golden lettering. The list sent him to the Department of International Magical Cooperation, office 106.

With the help of a security wizard, to whom he had to explain his problem so he would let him into the elevator, Carlos made it to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The elevator stopped in several different floors that all looked the same, and it was only the voice of the woman announcing the name of the Department that distinguished each floor from the next.

The door to office 106 was closed, unlike the rest of them which were open or ajar. Carlos was about to knock on the door when a tall man coming out from a nearby office firmly called out for him.

“Oi! Oi kid, what are you doing here?”

Carlos knew that getting to the offices of the Ministry of Magic had proved too easy. Something just  _ had _ to go wrong.

“I’m looking for Ambassador Almasi, I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with him,” he said solemnly, his head high to look at the man.

“What kind of urgent matter can a kid have with the Ambassador?” The wizard put his hand around Carlos’ bruised arm and tried to drag him back to the elevators, but Carlos shook free and took a couple of steps back.

“Please, just let me talk to him for a sec–“

“Kid, you can’t be here, who let you in here?” The man interrupted him, raising his voice.

“Tolipan!” Came a voice from within office 106. “How many times do I have to tell you to please take your little shows somewhere else?”

Carlos went silent and stood straight, ready to meet Jay’s father. Ambassador Almasi made justice to his name. He was a harsh looking wizard that seemed to have gone through a couple of difficult situations throughout his life, causing his face to appear tough and his tone, severe. Tolipan, the man who had busted Carlos, stood straight as well and pointed at Carlos with an accusing finger.

“I’m sorry Ambassador, but this kid here claims he has an urgent matter to discuss with you, and I’m just wondering who let him in here with such an absurd story.”

Jay’s father looked down at him, and if Carlos was expecting a smile or for him to dismiss Tolipan and let him into his office, he was very wrong.

“Tolipan, please just take this kid back to the atrium and stop yelling in front of my office,” he said with a bored look on his face.

“Wait!” Carlos yelped as the man put his hand around his arm again. “Ambassador, I do need your help. I’m friends with Jay, and I was hoping–“

But once again, he was interrupted.

“Oh– So you’re my son’s little new friend,” Ambassador Almasi said with wide eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. “Tolipan, let me talk to the kid just for a second.” His voice was full of intrigue, and he opened the door to his office and let Carlos in, leaving Tolipan open-mouthed in  the hallway.

Ambassador Almasi offered Carlos a seat in front of his desk and made his way to his own chair. The office was small but elegantly furnished and decorated, a framed picture of Jay and his father the only thing that gave it personality.

“Thank you, sir. I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t  _ very _ desperate to come here and bother you... sir,” Carlos was practically shaking with nerves, Jay’s father had proven so far to be a volatile and unpredictable person, and he had to talk carefully if he wanted to pose his problem.

“Yes, yes,” he dismissed his explanations with a movement of his hand. “But tell me, what can I do for Jay’s friend?”

Carlos tried to keep his story short so as not to bore Jay’s father, but the story sounded way more dramatic as he told it than what it had actually felt like. He told him about his abusive mother, his lack of money and the fact that all he wanted to do was go back to Hogwarts to meet with Jay and his other friends again. By the end of the story, Ambassador Almasi was practically on the edge of his seat, looking at him with curiosity and, of course, that little pitying look everyone gave Carlos.

“Oh, poor thing,” he said after Carlos was done with his story. “My son is such a good friend to you, isn't he?”

Carlos wanted to laugh. This man heard the whole story and the only thing he cared about, or so it would seem, was the fact that his son featured in it. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous at Jay for having such a caring parent, even if the way he cared for him was a tad strange.

“Yes, sir, he is a wonderful friend. That’s why the first person that came to my mind when I thought about asking for help was your son.”

Ambassador Almasi nodded, putting his hands together and leaning back on his chair. He looked at Carlos for a moment, deep in thought, before finally slamming his hands against the desk, startling Carlos.

“Well, that settles it,” he announced, standing up and looking for something in one of his desk’s drawers. He produced a piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink before bending over and writing something down on the parchment, his hand moving vigorously and quickly.

“Sir?”

“I’m owling Jay. I’m letting him know that you’ll be coming with us.”

“I am?” Suddenly, Carlos had forgotten all of his vocabulary.

“Well, where else would you go? I don’t think you have a lot of options, with the whole money issue and the fact that you’re just a mudblood,” he said as he made his way to the small fireplace on the other side of the room, but Carlos couldn’t see what he did next.

Ambassador Almasi’s last words echoed in Carlos’ head.  _ Just a mudblood _ .

Even though he knew what he was, the fact that Jay’s father considered the status of his blood an inconvenience threw him off. But he was, after all, doing for Carlos what no one else had bothered to do, so he decided to ignore the way he had called him a mudblood in such a crude way and kept on smiling. He couldn’t expect everything to be perfect.

Mudblood or not, Carlos would have a place to stay and would be able to return to Hogwarts for his second year thanks to Jay’s father.

 

-o-

 

Jay’s room was, hands down, the warmest place in the house. Jay would never admit it, but he hated being cold, even if he loved winter and the snow, so his room had been enchanted so it would always hold the same temperature, no matter the cold or the heat from outside. During the winter months, Jay absolutely loved spending the day in his huge room, reading Quidditch magazines, doing push-ups and crunches or simply catching up with his friends, writing and reading letters.

For the entirety of summer, Jay didn’t receive a single letter from Carlos. In mid-July, he gave up when he belatedly realized that Carlos didn’t even have an owl. He was satisfied knowing that, if he didn’t hear anything from Diego, Carlos’ cousin, then he must surely be alright, safe and sound. He hoped and wished with all his might that he were right.

Sitting cross-legged on his bed, analyzing the latest Quidditch matches and plays in that week’s copy of Seeker Weekly, Jay was interrupted by a slight _tap tap tap_ on  his window. Perched in the frame of the window, one of the Ministry’s groomed owls waited to be let in, a small piece of parchment tied to its leg. Jay folded the corner of the page of the magazine he had been reading and made his way to the window to take his father’s note from the owl. No one else would send him an owl from the Ministry of Magic directly to his room, so he knew perfectly well who it was from.

The owl didn’t even let him place the customary Sickle on its pouch and flew off smartly, as efficient as any full-time worker of the Ministry of Magic. Jay unfolded the note and concentrated on deciphering his father’s messy and complicated penmanship.

_ Jay, _

_ Your friend Carlos is in great need of our help. He will be staying with us. _

_ Also, please ask Makrey to cook roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for today’s dinner. _

_ Dad. _

Jay has to read the first part of the letter at least ten times before he is sure of what it says. Then he reads it ten more times to make sure he’s not imaging it. He didn’t know about Carlos for two whole months, and now his father was casually letting him know that he would be staying with them, before talking about dinner as if it were nothing. Perhaps Carlos did ask Diego to send a letter to Jay, but his father got it instead. But why would he send a letter from work? If Diego’s letter was sent to Jafar by accident, then he would have received it while at  the house, which was where Jay had been for the last couple of weeks. Whatever the reason, his father had invited Carlos to stay with them, even though Jay was pretty sure he wasn’t very fond of mudbloods. He looked around his room and was suddenly very conscious about the state it was in.

“Makrey,” Jay called and waited for the house elf to pop into the room.

“Young master,” the elf said as soon as he appeared, bowing his head the tiniest bit.

“I need you to do two things for me,” Jay began, running from one end of the room to the other, trying to tidy it up. “First, help me clean my room.”

Makrey didn’t need to be asked twice. The two of them managed to put everything in its place and leave the room impeccable. Just for good measure, Jay had Makrey move a bed from one of the guests’ room into his own.

“Good job,” he praised the elf. “Oh and, Dad wants roast beef with Yorkshire pudding for dinner.”

“I lets the kitchen elf know.”

“That would be all, thank you,” Jay looked around his room again to make sure everything was in order in case Carlos decided to stay there with him. Although come to think of it, his dad would probably just make him stay in one of the guests’ rooms. Which wouldn’t be half bad, Jay thought, but the thought made him kind of sad even so.

He waited for his father to get home and he realized he had never spent so much time doing absolutely nothing. He had gotten the letter around two o’clock, he knew because of the place the sun was as it entered his room and shone against the wooden floor, but four hours passed since then and he had done absolutely nothing. He just sat there, waiting. As the sun began to dip down behind the horizon, Jay made his way downstairs and into the hall where the fireplace was, where he sat with his Quidditch magazine, a handful of questions and a knot in his stomach. If he remembered correctly, he had never had a friend staying over.

The red flames of the fireplace suddenly shone green and his father appeared from within as if it were a door, followed by the small figure of Carlos De Vil. The kid coughed and leaped out of the fireplace, falling to the floor on his hands and knees. Jafar looked down at him and furrowed his brow.

“No, no, that’s not how you do it, kid,” he scolded Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos managed to get out between cough fits. Jay made his way to where he was and helped him up. Carlos’ clothes were dirty and not warm enough for the weather, and he seemed to have lost quite some weight.

“Hey, C,” he greeted him coolly, trying not to let his excitement show too much in front of his dad.

Carlos kept on coughing for a good minute before he was able to speak again. Jafar, meanwhile, ordered Makrey to clean the floor as it was full of ashes.

“Jay, it’s so good to see you,” Carlos finally said with a smile as he looked up at his friend, still clinging to him for support.

“Same here, mate” Jay responded, and even though it was such an understatement and such a small thing to say – he didn’t want his father to see him spin Carlos around or something of the sort – Carlos knew it meant everything.

“Such good friends, such good friends,” Jafar said with a tiny smile on his face. “Now, let’s have some dinner.”

Carlos found himself telling the story of how he escaped Cruella’s house again (he didn’t call it home once) and Jay was as intrigued by the story as his father had been, and it was in that moment that Carlos realized just how similar the two of them were. They both ate two servings of everything, and seemed to be equally hungry, even though Jafar was a full grown man and Jay was a fourteen year old kid. Then they talked about Quidditch and Carlos tried his best not to laugh. If Jay was enthusiastic about his favorite sport, Jafar was almost obsessed. They gestured and made noises and yelled about last year’s Quidditch matches. Gryffindor ended up winning the Quidditch final against Slytherin, although Slytherin won the House Cup, which was just fine with Jay.

Jafar asked Carlos about him, about his life and the muggle world, and even though Carlos knew he was making an effort to create conversation for his son’s sake, he could tell he wasn’t impressed with anything he said. Or, dare he say, interested.

After dinner, Jafar went to his study to keep working and let Carlos stay in Jay’s room, which made both of them secretly very happy. Jay showed Carlos his favorite places of his house, like the kitchen, which was always balmy and smelled of food, or the backyard, which was tiny compared to the one they used to have in Agrabah, but wonderful still. And finally his room, where he explained about the enchantment it had and how it was weird of him to have asked for such a dumb spell.

“You see?” Carlos exhaled from his lying position on the bed that had been set up specially for him. “You  _ are _ sensitive to cold. And you tried to act all macho, wearing close to nothing, playing in the snow. You prat.”

“Hey, I had my fair share of karma! I got sick, in case you forgot,” Jay said from his own bed. They were both looking up at the ceiling, and the lights had been off for the past half hour, although neither  of them were tired in the slightest.

“It is so warm in here, though,” Carlos whispered. “I love it so much.”

It would have been better if they had some music playing or something, because Carlos didn’t want Jay to hear him cry. But he did. All at once, the reality of everything that had happened in the last month hit him as he lay in a soft bed with his best friend, and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. He sobbed and sniffled and dried his tears with the back of his hands and the whole situation was excruciatingly embarrassing.

But Jay was suddenly  _ there,  _ the comforting weight of his body tilting the bed to the side. He put his hand on Carlos’ shoulder and looked down at him with patient eyes and a gentle expression on his face. The tension on Carlos’ shoulders began to dissipate as if Jay’s mere touch could heal, which wouldn’t have surprised him in the least.

Carlos didn’t talk about the way Cruella hit him and starved him, but Jay knew, and he didn’t want to talk about it, either. He just let Carlos keep crying and Carlos allowed himself to finally cry, and both of them were so damn grateful for that.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Jay said as Carlos’ sobs died down, and Carlos could have sworn he had a heart attack, but he merely nodded and waited for Jay to keep going. “I know when your birthday is,” he confessed.

For a moment, Carlos didn’t know what Jay was talking about. Of course he knew when Carlos’ birthday was, it was him and the girls who invented it after all. But Jay was biting his lip and looking down, playing with the loose threads of the quilt on Carlos’ bed, seemingly nervous.

“What do you mean? You gave me a birthday,” Carlos said.

“No, not that one,” Jay added quickly. “I, er, I did some investigation, and I know when your real birthday is.”

They looked at each other for a second, Jay’s face serious and Carlos’ full of disbelief. But Jay looked so bound and determined, Carlos had to sit up.

“No,” he gasped out.

“Yeah,” Jay let out with a laugh that forced his eyes shut, which made Carlos laugh too, putting a hand over his mouth to compose himself.

“I’m not ready to know this! How did you even get the actual date?” Carlos was so excited he had to stand up, so suddenly they were both standing up in the middle of Jay’s big, warm, dark room, huge smiles on both their faces.

“It wasn’t that hard, really. But I had to talk to Mal’s mum, for one,” Jay began. “I remembered how the school knows when every wizard kid is turning eleven, so I figured Professor Maleficent knew.”

“Oh my God,” Carlos exclaimed, but he was embarrassed as soon as he said that, realizing it was such a muggle thing to say. But Jay didn’t seem to notice, he just kept on telling the story.

“But she didn’t know,” he finished. Carlos was about to scream at Jay when he continued. “BUT she told me I could ask in the Ministry of Magic, which I did. I went with my dad a couple of weeks ago and talked to nearly ten people of the Department of Magical Education before I got to the right one. Funny old lady who took forever finding your archive.”

Carlos took a deep breath and nodded, ready to hear the date of the day he was born.

“Carlos De Vil,” Jay announced with his head high and an official tone. “It is my pleasure to let you know that your real birthday is…” He suddenly went very quiet and smiled at him, truly and widely. “Carlos, you were born the 4th of July, 1996.”

Even though Carlos still had no clothes, no money and nowhere to go, the fact that he had an actual birthday now was more than he could have asked for from his best friend. He let out a little yelp and laughed again, and Jay was laughing too, and for some reason that he couldn’t explain, he felt like he could live in that room forever and it would be okay.


	6. Summer Warms –Some– People’s Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Okay this one is a tiiiny bit overdue. So much for the weekly updates, huh?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you can all bear with us because as we warned you, this is a sloooow build fic, and what we put emphasis on –at least for now– is how Carlos is coping with the changes in his life and how everything he's known so far is but a bad dream compared to what he'll get to experience at Hogwarts. We'll get to the fluff and romance in due course. 
> 
> Again, this story is co-written by Alondra (@devilisimo) and me (@jaycharmings). And we would like to encourage you (ahem, beg you) to leave your comments, you have no idea how excited we get when you all comment. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

There wasn’t a single moment throughout the whole day when Carlos and Jay weren’t together for the rest of the summer. Carlos’ days, which merely a month earlier had consisted of sitting in a dark, dingy closet waiting for his mother to pity him enough to grant him some food, were now full of laughter and jokes with his best friend. Jay felt as if he were living an infinite sleepover, and even though that was just how he lived at Hogwarts, surrounded by friends even when he was sleeping, his roommates didn’t play Exploding Snap with him until the wee hours of the morning like Carlos did. They weren’t half as fun as him.  

In fact, nights turned out to be more fun than days. Jay’s bed buried in candies, snacks, games and Quidditch magazines, Jay and Carlos sat in front of each other to talk and joke and play, no pressure on their shoulders from school projects and homework or upcoming Quidditch matches. Just them and the world, which as far as they were concerned could only consist of Jay’s room.

“But listen,” Jay said as he tried to calm himself down after a laughing fit. “Evie didn’t even have a clue she was wrong, that’s the worst part! She just went ‘Can’t the chasers score without carrying the Quaffle?’” He said, imitating Evie in a high, posh voice.

“In her defense, it _is_ a weird sport,” Carlos argued.

“In her defense,” Jay quickly added. “She’s way better at Quidditch than Mal. That girl’s a hot mess.”

Their laughter died down and the two boys were submerged in a comfortable silence for a moment. They had eaten the whole batch of fresh cookies they had asked the kitchen elf to make for them and Jay could feel Carlos falling asleep next to him, his breathing slow and deep and his whole body relaxed. He knew he should have sent him to the other bed so they could both get some proper sleep, but he didn’t want to make him move, he didn’t want to wake him up when he finally looked so peaceful. Eventually, Carlos started snorting ever so slightly and adjusted himself in the bed, like a tired kid. Jay made room for himself on the other side of the bed, as far as possible from Carlos, and settled to sleep.

The next morning, a sun ray that had sneaked through the curtains shone directly on Jay’s face, waking him up. His eyes still half closed, he slowly got up and found Carlos fast asleep next to him, his legs practically against his chest and his back to Jay, but undoubtedly close to him. He used his infallible time telling technique and guessed it was ten or eleven in the morning from the position of the sun rays on the floor of his room. They had overslept. He hastily decided it was time to wake Carlos up if they wanted to seize the day and go to Diagon Alley to get Jay’s things for the upcoming school year –Carlos would use Jay’s old books and other equipment from two years ago, so he didn’t actually have to buy anything, but he wanted to visit Diagon Alley anyway. In fact, Carlos had been wearing some of Jay’s old clothes since he got there, old pants, shirts and even shoes that no longer fit Jay’s rapidly growing body. It was a completely different style than the one he was used to since his mother picked most of his clothes and she was a huge fashion figure after all, but Jay thought his clothes fit Carlos better than his own did. It made him look like a kid that had been raised by wizard parents.

As peaceful as Carlos looked, Jay figured he had gotten enough sleep already, so he decided to wake him up by scaring him a little. He got close to his face and, trying not to laugh, screamed right into his ear. Carlos practically jumped out of bed, shouting as well and holding on to the covers of the bed like his life depended on never letting go of them. It took quite a while for Jay to stop laughing.  

“Mate, you’re so jumpy,” Jay said once he had calmed down.

“I’m not! You just screamed right my face, you git.”

“Worth it. Now get ready, I’m getting my new stuff today,” he announced as he made his way to the other side of the room where his closet stood.

“Oh. Right,” Carlos said, rubbing his eyes.

“Chin up kiddo, you’re gonna have all the books and things you need, too.”

Carlos stretched his limbs like a cat and finally got out of bed. He immediately started making it like a good guest would do, but something stopped him. He turned to look at his own bed and found it neatly made, but covered with all the junk they had gathered through the last couple of days.

“Did we both sleep here?” He asked, pointing at the largest bed.

Jay grabbed a towel from a little hanger in the corner of the room and threw it over his shoulder. He looked at Carlos, then the bed and just shrugged before fishing for some clothes out of one of his drawers.

“Oh, yeah. We did,” he said casually.

With all of the freckles on his face his mother hated, it was hard to tell when Carlos blushed, but this time he swore even Jay’s neighbors, at least half a mile away, could perfectly see the bright red spots that had appeared on his cheeks. Jay let out a loud laugh and patted him on the back as he made his way to the bathroom, shaking his head amusedly.

“Jay, I– I’m so _so_ sorry! How embarrassing,” Carlos stammered.

“Gee, you surely worry about a lot of things. Don’t sweat it, it was nice cuddling you.”

“Oh my God!” Carlos put his hands on his face, trying to cover the blush that was _surely_ showing now.

“Chill, mate,” Jay said, still laughing good heartedly, and disappeared through the bathroom door, leaving Carlos completely embarrassed and a tiny bit confused. A couple of minutes later, just as Carlos finished making the bed and straightening the room a little, Jay came back into the room wearing only his pants and a towel wrapped around his hair. It was a funny picture to Carlos, a guy with a towel on his head like girls wore them, but Jay strutted into the room and said nothing, completely unbothered by Carlos seeing him like that and the fact that he was _wearing a towel around his hair like a girl_. Plus, he was shirtless, but that was okay since they were now really close, Carlos thought, but he still tried not to look directly at him and busied himself with finding something to wear. Jay just tried not to laugh.

-o-

Carlos was perfectly aware that they had slept in the same bed. He had needed the comfort.

The previous day, after dinner, Jay disappeared for over an hour. They had been discussing in the living room about the obvious favoritism that most of the teachers showed for the Gryffindor students when Jay got up and said he’d be back immediately, he had something he wanted to show Carlos. He had no time to argue before Jay was out of the room. Five minutes passed, and Jay hadn’t came back. Then fifteen, and Carlos was beginning to feel anxious, all alone in the big living room. When Jay had been gone for half an hour, Carlos just couldn’t stay there any longer. Against his own conscience, which told him –or rather yelled– that he better don’t touch anything in that expensive, expensive place and just keep waiting,  Carlos stood up and called Jay’s name.

He went through the living room and the entry hall, calling Jay’s name softly. There were at least ten rooms in the first floor of the house, and Carlos looked for Jay in all of them. In the library, the music room, the drawing room, the kitchen, dining room and even the elve’s chambers. At the end of the house’s darkest corridor, a door stood ajar, the lights on inside. Still calling Jay’s name, Carlos made his way to the room and opened the door completely, revealing a small office. He had not even set a foot inside when he felt a firm hand around his arm, pulling him out.

“What do you think you are doing, kid?” Demanded Jafar angrily. He hadn’t called him kid since the first day they met.

“I’m so sorry sir, I was just looking for Jay. He disappeared and-”

“Disappeared? Inside his own house?” He asked sternly.

“He was gone, I don’t know…”

“You have no business snooping around, off with you,” he released his arm and pushed him away, clearly trying to hold back.

Carlos wasn’t afraid of Jafar, he had had worse. But he was so incredibly embarrassed, after all they had both done for him. He made his way to Jay’s room and waited for him there for another ten minutes before he finally appeared, a bunch of old books in his arms and a sincere smile that Carlos tried to mimic, too embarrassed to tell Jay about what had just happened with his father.

-o-

Jafar wasn’t a welcoming man, Carlos was aware of that. Since the very first day they met, he had been a cold man, and only showed interest in what Carlos had to say when his son was involved, but even in those conversations, he lacked the spark that was so characteristic of Jay, the smile that came so natural to him. Carlos and Jafar didn’t really talk that much to begin with, they wouldn’t talk at all if it weren’t for Jay for that matter, but ever since the incident in Jafar’s office, he seemed to ignore him even more obviously.

But Jay didn’t seem to notice the change in his father’s behavior towards his friend, and Carlos wasn’t going to tell him anything about it. In his opinion, Jafar’s study should have had a sign on the door like the one on his office in the Ministry of Magic, and yes, he knew that was a stupid thought since it was his house, but still, that little mistake had put him in Jafar’s black list –not that he wasn’t there already, being a mudblood and all– and all he wanted to do was go back in time and make sure he never ever opened that door.

This is why he was glad when the summer days began to turn shorter and the nights became colder; September was just around the corner.

“I can’t believe we are going back to school tomorrow,” Carlos exclaimed happily from his bed, gaining a growl from Jay who was laying on his own bed on the other side of the room, facing the ceiling. Jay’s protests went past him as he was busy daydreaming about all the things they could do tomorrow upon arriving at Hogwarts.

Carlos had had the summer of his life in the Almasi house, and he wanted to scream his gratitude to Jay for being so hospitable, selfless and kind, like no one had ever been to him before. He was still amazed he had been lucky enough to befriend someone like him, hell, to had met him in the first place. As of last year, Carlos had only known how muggles schools worked, where the jocks and the nerds would never _ever_ speak to each other, but they had broken that rule, that was for sure. And, had they followed the stereotypes, the nerd would have never befriend the princess or the alternative, punk-rock kid either, and yet, he could easily describe Evie and Mal as the sisters he’d never had.

Owls brought letters to Jay’s window from their two friends almost daily after they got the news about Carlos’ temporary residence in Jay’s house. They talked about their day to day activities, funny stories about pranks Mal boasted about, and what they would do once they got back to school. But they mainly asked about Carlos’ health and how he was doing, asking hundreds of questions in each letter, and it was at times like that when Carlos found the wizarding world slightly inconvenient, resenting the lack of technology due to the opposition of magic and electronic flows. Given his way, they would be talking online about all that, maybe even through videochat.

Even though Carlos was a bit reluctant to tell Mal and Evie about how Cruella had destroyed his broom, Jay insisted he did. Mal was quick to respond with a howler –a screaming letter– and Carlos, who had never seen one, jumped in surprise as he heard Mal howling from the small mouth-like piece of paper, describing with precise detail what she would do to Cruella if she ever met her. Jay was practically tearing up from laughter since that was pretty much how he reacted too, although he was a little bit more serious when he said he would turn her into a fur coat and see if she liked them as much after she became one herself. Evie had been way better than Mal at suppressing her anger while writing her letter, and she was more concerned with how Carlos was feeling; she asked him if he needed any help, if he had everything he needed for the upcoming school year, what had happened with all his stuff, and if he was comfortable in Jay’s house (she, like everyone else, knew Jafar was a cold man). So far, they had answered to their friends’ letters together, but Jay let him answer that one by himself.

Carlos assured her that he was getting better, but that his first days in Jay’s house had been difficult. For a while, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was dreaming, and that at any moment, he would wake up back inside his mother’s cold fur closet, darkness surrounding him and eating him alive. He had gotten used to nightmares by now, but he tried to keep that to himself as he didn’t want to make Jay worry over him even more. Although he told all of this to Evie, he wanted it to be kept secret.

The way his friends cared for him so deeply was so touching Carlos couldn’t help but smile as he went to bed that night, thinking about how far he had come in less than a year. The fact that friendships like that even existed was harder to believe than magic itself. How it all felt like an eternal sleepover, full of kind words, dumb jokes, warm touches and everything else he never thought he would ever get to experience. That had truly and without a doubt been the best summer of his life, even if the start had had its bumps.

But as much as he had enjoyed their lazy afternoons and sleepless nights, he couldn’t help but feel that he wasn't welcomed in that house anymore. Of course, not because of Jay, he would never make him feel unwelcome or out of place. It was his father, whose estoic nature had become more and more prominent with each passing day since the incident in his home office. Plus, the elves had treated him with forced kindness since the very first day, and even threw some mean words his way from time to time when neither Jay or Jafar were around. Although he guessed that had everything to do with the fact that he was a muggle-born, not like Jafar and his obvious dislike of him as a person.

He was incredibly tired that night, but all the thoughts in his head kept him awake. After having thought of it for a while, Carlos  gathered up enough courage to ask Jay if he thought his father hated him.

“Jay-- you up?” He whispered, turning his head to the side to see if Jay was asleep. He had an arm over his face covering his eyes, his long hair spread out on the pillow; he hadn't cut it that summer like he said he would, and it already reached his shoulders. Carlos waited for a reply but, after hearing him snore a little, he realized that it would be impossible to wake him up now, thinking that he should try to get some rest as well. He would ask him about his father tomorrow, if he remembered.

He made sure he was in his own bed before succumbing to his tiredness.

-o-

Floo powders were tricker than the wizards Carlos had met made them seem. He emerged from one of the fireplaces at the Ministry’s atrium coughing and gagging after tripping over his own feet and clothes, and Jay had to take a moment to calm himself and stop laughing before helping him up. That was the first time that day that Jay so much as smiled, so Carlos didn’t really mind it, but he sent him an annoyed glare just to follow the script.

Maybe it was the fact that Jafar hadn’t taken some time out of his busy schedule to say goodbye to Jay at the train station, or that he had sent Jay’s least favorite Ministry minion to babysit and help them get to platform 9 ¾ from the Ministry, or perhaps that they were going back to school; anyway, Jay really wasn’t happy that day, and although he wasn’t particularly mean or harsh with him, he was very distant.

The Ministry car that would take them to King’s Cross didn’t take long to arrive after Jafar sent for it. It was a fancy black car with polarized windows that Carlos couldn’t help but compare to his mother’s car. Carlos found Jay’s familiarity with the whole process a bit surprising, and even sad, if he really thought about it. That must have been the way he got to the station every year, the only difference that time was Carlos.

Jafar said goodbye to them –to Jay, really– in his office, and they made their way to where the car was parked with his assistant, who helped them with their bags and trunks, so they didn’t have to worry about doing or carrying anything. It was completely different to how things had been at the beginning Carlos’ first year. Carlos remembered how scared he had been of finding Cruella waiting for him at the gate of King’s Cross, ready to drag him back to the house. And although that never happened, his nerves didn’t disappear, and he kept thinking something would go wrong at some point, even if his cousin had spent almost half of the ride to Hogsmeade asking him to _please stop worrying_.

The ride from the Ministry to the train station wasn’t long. As soon as they got there, the assistant hurried them up as they took their stuff out of the trunk of the car and, once they had all their belongings, he took off back into the city traffic. Jay’s mood had lightened up during the car ride, Carlos noticed, and he was practically himself again as they crossed platform 9 ¾. They both began looking for their friends once they were on the other side.

“If Mal’s buying coffee instead of bringing the tickets, I swear I’ll--”

“You’ll what, Almasi?” Said a voice behind them, making them both turn around in surprise. “Are you going to bore me to death with your Quidditch talk?”

Carlos smiled at the sight of their friend, who smirked right back. Mal looked the same as always, leather jacket and combat boots that matched her personality. The only accessory she wore was a dragon necklace that winked an emerald eye at Carlos. Jay just rolled his eyes at her comment, but there was an unmistakable shadow of a smile in the corners of his lips.

“Well, did you bring the tickets?” Jay crossed his arms, resting his body against the wall.

“I don’t have them, Evie does.”

“And where is she? Wasn’t she supposed to come with you?” Carlos asked, confused. In her last letter, Evie had told him she was in London already, and that she and Mal would be getting to King’s Cross together. But Mal didn’t seem to know where her friend was.

“Well, yeah… sort of,” Mal shrugged.

“What do you mean by ‘sort of’?” Carlos cocked an eyebrow.

“Did you really lose her _again_ , Mal?” Jay straightened up, looking around to see if he could spot her between the dozens of students and parents.

“She’s very sneaky, alright! We were going to buy the tickets and suddenly she wasn’t next to me anymore. I was actually looking for her when I found you.” There was a hint of shame in her voice, which was new to Carlos.

“Wait, this has happened before?” It was weird for Carlos to remember that they had been friends before he met them, that they already had stories together that he didn’t know about, and wasn’t a part of. He tried not to think about that.

“From time to time,” Jay sighed, still craning his neck, looking Evie.

“Mostly when she sees something that she likes and she wants to go buy it or something,” Mal added. “But there are no stores here, there’s nothing interesting here, I don’t know where she might be-- wait.”

Mal stood on her toes, squinting at the distance. Both Jay and Carlos followed her gaze, and saw Evie, not too far away, trying to drag her trolley with one hand and carrying a small cat on the other, but she couldn’t walk two steps without either a bag falling from her trolley, or the cat squirming to get free, forcing her to stop to calm it down.

Mal called her name and she looked up, a bright smile on her face. She waved at them, which proved to be a bad idea as the cat took the chance to climb her arm and stick to her shoulder with its little claws, obviously scared. Jay made his way to her and helped her with the trolley, leaving the cat for her to take care of. She thanked him with her signature smile and they went to meet their friends.

“Hey, guys,” Evie smiled, regal as always, with that joyful spirit that she never seemed to lose.

“Are you expecting us to ask you about the cat or are you going to tell us what’s the deal with it?” Mal asked, still mad at her for having disappeared like that.

“Calm down, grumpy pants,” Mal frowned at the lame insult. “I saw this little guy in a box in the middle of the station, all alone. I couldn’t just leave him there, now could I?”

Evie wasn’t surprised at Jay and Mal’s reactions. Mal raised an eyebrow and Jay simply frowned at her a little, as if saying “yeah, you could have literally just left the cat there.” But it wasn’t their reactions she was concerned about. She turned to look at Carlos, who was too concentrated in the little cat to care what their friends might think of it. Evie smiled, satisfied.

“Do you like him, Carlos?” She asked, letting him pet the kitten’s head, who was much more calmed now. Carlos raised his eyes from the cat to look at Evie and nodded, a soft smile on his face. “Good, ‘cause it’s yours,” she announced, handing the cat to him.

“What?” He asked, looking at his friends for a clue of what was going on.

“Well, you need an animal for school this year. You’re about to start transfigurating for real. Besides, I saw this little guy and immediately thought of you, I think you’re perfect for each other.”

The cat didn’t protest to the change of owner, he quickly snuggled into Carlos’ chest and started purring. It was a very small cat, its white and black fur still soft and fluffy. Evie might have been right to say it reminded her of Carlos.

“She got that right, you even have the same hair,” Jay joked, ruffling Carlos’ hair.

“Thank you, E,” said Carlos with a cuckle, still surprised at his friend’s generosity.

“It was nothing.”

“That’s all very nice, but where are the tickets?” Mal asked once that was settled. “We should go now if we want to find an empty compartment.”

“Hm?” Evie hummed, still stroking his new cat’s fur

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Jay growled, hand going through his hair. “Alright, I’ll go. This is the last time I leave any of you in charge of the tickets.” He muttered as he disappeared between the crowd.

-o-

Hard as he tried not to, Jay ended up cooing over the little kitten in Carlos’ arms as well. He had climbed into the compartment and chosen the seat by the door so he could order things from the candy trolley as the lady passed by, but Carlos had practically pressed himself against him to show him how cute his cat was, how it purred and licked his fingers and washed its tiny face with its tiny paws and _oh Merlin it was the cutest thing Jay had ever seen_.

“Aw, look at that. Does wittwe Jay wove the kitty?” Mal crooned mockingly from the other side of the compartment, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers and chewing gum, a grin on her face.

Jay sent her a menacing glare, but as he was still petting Carlos’ cat, the effect was lost. He pushed Carlos to the other side of the seat and put his feet up where he had been, trying to gain his air of carelessness back. Evie and Mal giggled and even Carlos laughed a bit too, but the let the matter drop as the trolley lady knocked on their window. As usual, Carlos and Jay bought the poor lady’s trolley empty, sticking chocolates and candy in their mouths as soon as they were put in their hands. The four of them exchanged chocolate frogs cards and dared each other to eat weird-looking jelly beans until they arrived at Hogsmeade’s station.

This year, Carlos got to ride with their friends to the castle in a horseless carriage, which, again, he realized was something his friends had done without him before.

“C, you’re spacing out,” Jay told him, pushing his shoulder against Carlos’.

“I was just thinking, I--”

“How rude of me, I have to introduce you!” Evie suddenly shouted from the other side of the carriage where she had been talking to Mal and a kid with glasses that never took his eyes off of her. “This is Doug. Doug, this is Carlos.”

Shaking his head to get rid of any of his previous unwanted thoughts, Carlos stretched his arm and shook Doug’s hand. He noticed Doug immediately went back to chatting with Evie. It was hard for anyone not to feel that _pull_ towards her, like a magnetic field that came from the very core of her being. Carlos felt a pinch of jealousy in the pit of his stomach as he watched Doug and Evie talk, but Jay was fast to get his attention back.

“Little Doug there has had a crush on Evie since I met him,” he whispered, his face close to Carlos’ in conspiracy.

“Who doesn’t have a crush on Evie?” Carlos asked jokingly.

Jay kept silent for a while, looking at him.

“Do you have a crush on Evie?” He asked, a small smile on his face, sure he had cracked a big secret.

But Carlos was at a loss of words. Did he have a crush on Evie? He looked at her with Doug again, and sure enough, that sentiment of jealousy was still there. But he was just twelve, he didn’t want to hold anyone’s hand yet, or write love letters, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do when you have a crush on somebody, no matter how incredibly kind that somebody had been to him. For now, all he wanted to do was learn how to play Quidditch with Jay.

“Evie is wonderful, but I don’t like her like that,” he confessed, still in a hushed tone. “Besides, she’s older than me.”

His friend just kept looking at him with that knowing smile on his lips, deciding that Carlos was lying. However, they both let the matter drop as they reached the entrance of the castle. Jay hopped off the carriage and practically all the way to his usual seat in the Gryffindor table at the Great Hall, telling everybody who would listen that he was starving. For his part, Carlos made his way to the Hufflepuff table and sat next to Lonnie Li, who greeted him happily and asked him about his summer. Carlos tried not to smile too big as he told Lonnie about his summer at Jay’s house. Meanwhile, Jay did the same and tried not to sound too excited as he told his roommates about his summer with his best friend.


	7. Keepers and Seekers and Everything in Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is co-written by:
> 
> Alondra (freckledevil | tumblr)  
> Joanna aka me (harrvhooks | tumblr)
> 
> BETTER LATE THAN ABANDONED AM I RIGHT, LADIES??
> 
> We are SO stoked to be back together to continue this story, especially since we now have the whole thing planned practically to the last scene. In the name of both of us, I hope you enjoy this chapter and all those left to come, we sure are having a blast writing them. 
> 
> Again (thank God), beautiful Talley aka tlea here in ao3 is helping us beta read this story. She still deserves the world.

 

The first girl Jay ever fancied knocked him unconscious just fifteen minutes after having met. It was the third Friday of Jay’s fourth year at Hogwarts, and the Quidditch tryouts had half of the school eagerly waiting to be able to tryout for their house team, and the other half practically buzzing with excitement, ready for the cup to start so they could watch the games and cheer for their teams. All around, everyone was thrilled. That day, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had booked half of the Quidditch pitch each for their tryouts, so there were a fair amount of students from both houses in the field and bleachers.

Jay’s hands, cold and sweaty, would not let go of his broom and he gripped it as if he were about to fall, even though his feet were firmly grounded. And he was not even trying out for the team. 

“Jay, I’m gonna need you to fly with this next girl, she’s the first one trying out for Beater,” came Seneca’s voice from somewhere on his left, making him snap to attention.

“Huh?” He shook his head and concentrated on what his captain was telling him.

“Just work with her, help her with the Bludgers,” she implored him, sounding tired. 

Lars McKinnon, former Beater for the Gryffindor team, had just graduated, and the spot was currently being fought over. Jay was afraid the Quidditch tryouts would be so successful he would be kicked out of the team to make room for better players. Hence, his nerves. But if Gryffindor’s captain trusted him enough to have him test other students, then, he thought, his spot in the team wasn’t in jeopardy after all. Not for now, at least. 

He nodded at Seneca and took off in his broom swiftly, going to meet with _Allaway, Victoria_ in the middle of the Quidditch pitch to give her a bat and some instructions, perhaps more nervous about it all than the girl herself. When he met her in mid-air, he nearly fell off his broom. Her eyes were greener than the grass they were flying over, and her hair, dark and curly and all over the place, looked like something out of a Renaissance painting. Or at least Jay guessed so, he couldn’t really recall any Renaissance paintings with girls with such beautiful hair. He couldn’t recall any Renaissance paintings for that matter. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the girl and stop thinking about stupid paintings. 

“He- hey. I’m Jay, I’ll, er, help you with the Bludgers today,” he stammered, trying to sound casual and suave.

“Awesome,” she said in a deep, smooth voice as she took the bat from Jay’s hand. “Don’t be gentle with me,” and she was off, ready to play. 

Seneca blew her whistle and the Bludger was released. She took off from the ground and flew around the two Beaters, analyzing Victoria’s moves closely. The Bludger came for Jay first, but he hit it with the bat easily and redirected it towards Victoria, who, he just realized, was chewing gum. She flew straight to the Bludger to gain momentum, one hand holding tightly to her broom and the other one ready to swing her bat. She hit the ball back at Jay and flew away in a move that all the Beaters knew too well, which allowed them to see where the Bludger ended up and when it flew back again at them or other players. But, strange enough, every time the Bludger flew her way, she plunged forward and met it halfway, as opposed to diving to the side to get a better angle, or simply waiting for it. Seneca took some notes and nodded several times. 

Fifteen minutes into Victoria’s tryout, Seneca released the second Bludger. Jay and Victoria passed them between each other and prevented Seneca from being hit. Jay was going after a Bludger that was flying straight at the captain when he heard Victoria shout a warning at him. He dived forward and managed to hit the Bludger that was going straight for Seneca just as he felt it. Victoria had accidentally thrown the Bludger at him and it hit him square in the nape, knocking him unconscious. 

 

“… dumb kid tryna get killed,” someone was murmuring.

“It was all my fault, I’m so so sorry,” came a second voice.

“Could you just let him breathe for a second?” That was Carlos’ voice, that one he couldn’t mistake. 

Jay tried to incorporate himself, but a hand on his chest forced him to lay back down. He was laying on the bleachers with his head supported by a couple of rolled up scarves, his friends surrounding him. On the background, he could hear other kids cheering and whistling, so the tryouts weren’t over yet, he hadn’t been out for long. 

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he said, getting up and batting Carlos’ hand away, who was trying to get him to lay down again. 

“Jay, how do you feel?” Evie was sitting by his feet and practically laid on top of him as she tried to get a better look at his face.

“Fine, jeez,” he accepted the water bottle that Carlos offered him and sat down properly, looking around. “Did your Bludger hit me?” He asked Victoria, frowning up at her from the pain he felt at the back of his neck. 

“Yes, and I’m so sorry,” she admitted in her deep voice. Jay could get used to hearing it. 

“It’s alright,” he said, rubbing at his neck.

“That’s what you get for trying to show off,” Mal said, crossing her arms and scowling at him. 

“That’s enough,” Carlos intervened just before Jay could snap back at Mal. “He’s alright, thank you,” he told Victoria, who nodded and walked away, glancing back with an apprehensive look on her face.

Carlos insisted everyone got back to what they were doing while he took care of Jay. There were still kids flying around in the field, so nobody complained too much before going back to keep watching the exciting tryouts, although the kids trying out for Gryffindor Beater would have to do it without Jay’s assistance. 

“That Victoria girl really is something else,” Carlos said softly as he sat next to Jay on the bleachers once they were alone.

“She’s awesome, isn’t she?” 

“If I were half as good as her, I’m sure I’d get in,” Carlos joked, looking down at his hands. 

“I’m sure she’ll get in— wait. You wanna be part of Hufflepuff’s team?” Jay asked, eyes wide.

“No, no, I meant to say she’s so good she’ll surely get in. She’d get in even if she was half as good,” he explained, but Jay wasn’t in the same page as him.

“Why don’t you try out?” He asked excitedly.

“Didn’t you hear what I just-“

“You should definitely do it!” Jay exclaimed, speaking over Carlos.

Carlos just shook his head with a slight smile on his lips and looked back at the field where two boys were throwing the Quaffle around, Seneca flying with them as well, her notepad forgotten as she played too, passing the Quaffle, laughing, shouting instructions and correcting their moves. 

“I don’t think they’d take me,” he admitted after a while.

Jay laughed and punched Carlos in the arm slightly.

“I knew you wanted in! But hey, you’ve been practicing loads. Hell, you’ve been practicing with me,” he added proudly.

Again, Carlos just laughed and looked away. That was something Carlos did a lot, Jay noticed, when it came to talking about himself. Jay didn’t want to make Carlos uncomfortable, so he kept quiet and watched the rest of the tryouts. Mal and Evie were cheering for Ravenclaw’s Keeper, who blocked nearly every single shot that was thrown his way by other Ravenclaw kids. Jay couldn’t help thinking about Victoria, which made him smile like a fool. He was the first one to vote for her when Seneca asked him and his teammates who should be Gryffindor’s new Beater. 

 

-o-

 

Dinnertime came around and the four friends set off to the Great Hall, ready for the weekend to begin so they could lay on the cool grass next to the lake and do absolutely nothing, like they used to do. They all sat on their usual spot in the Slytherin table and watched as Jay ate sausage after sausage, betting on how many he’d be able to eat. Evie was the winner, who claimed he wouldn’t get past sausage number twelve.

They were almost done with their food when a group of five Slytherin kids sat next to them, talking and joking loudly. Carlos fidgeted on his seat, the scene reminding him a bit too much of the bullies that roamed his school and picked on kids like him. Well, mainly just on him. 

“Evie, isn’t that your little boyfriend?” Mal asked, grinning from behind a cup of tea. Give it to Mal to look menacing while drinking green tea with milk and honey.

“Stop it!” Evie cried softly, clearly flustered and looking down at her hands.

“What boyfriend?” Jay and Carlos asked at the same time, earning another grin from Mal. 

“Charming, Slytherin’s Keeper.” 

“The cute one,” Evie added despite herself, smiling dreamily at her knees, too afraid to look his way.

Carlos looked over and recognized him immediately, “the cute one”. Chad Charming was mostly known for being part of one of England’s richest, most controversial families, Mal explained. His mother was working for his father’s family as a servant when they fell madly in love, and although she had always been nice and kind to the media, she was often portrayed as a gold digger. But reality was that she was as regal as a queen. She was a queen with neither crown nor kingdom. 

“Mr. Charming’s family are all wizards, only Chad’s mum’s a Muggle,” Mal kept telling them as they all eyed Chad Charming discretely. “But they don’t like having anything to do with the wizarding community, they live like Muggles in London.”

Carlos nodded and tried not to look at him anymore. He had seen him before, always chatting with giggling girls or his Quidditch team, being noisy as they walked through the castle halls as if the school were theirs. He could admit that he was a good looking bloke, he wouldn’t go as far as calling him “cute” like Evie did, but he could understand why some girls were so infatuated with him. The only reference he really had of the guy was Lonnie. She had some classes with him and it seemed that she knew him from even before they started studying at Hogwarts, something about their parents being friends from school or something. She would sometimes talk about him, and he really didn’t like what she told him. 

“How do you know so much about him?” Carlos asked.

“Spend a day with Evie and you’ll get it,” Mal said with a shrug. 

“You like that idiot?” Jay grimaced and Mal chuckled at his reaction. It was a known fact that Gryffindors and Slytherins didn't get along, aside from a few exceptions, like themselves for instance, but Mal was sure that Jay’s disapproval of the Charming lad had nothing to do with house rivalries and everything to do with that time he shoved him during Jay's first Quidditch game. He fell off his broom, causing him a contusion. He had to stay in the nursery for almost a week after that. That had been almost two years ago, but he was still bitter about it. 

Evie rolled her eyes, letting the discussion die there. She wasn’t going to start a fight with Jay, she knew he didn’t like Chad, it was more than obvious, and even if she could have said something back, she decided it was better not to.

 

-o- 

 

The tryouts for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team were a week after Gryffindor’s, on a chill morning with gray clouds that covered the sun, the grass wet with early mist. Carlos nervously fidgeted with the hem of his uniform and squinted up at the cloudy sky with pursed lips. That couldn’t be a good sign. 

As he awkwardly stood between at least a dozen other (bigger) Hufflepuff students waiting to showcase their talents, Carlos tried his best not to faint. He didn’t know how he had let Jay talk him into trying out. He felt far from ready to do something like that. 

But, with a combination of pleas and quite a bit of motivation and encouragement, Jay had managed to convince him to tryout for the team. He reckoned that he would be a wonderful Seeker; he was small and rather fast. He had spent the last summer doing basically nothing but playing around with Jay on his broom after all.

There were more Hufflepuff kids trying out than there were Slytherins, who, after several complains, grudgingly agreed to share the field with Hufflepuff that day. A lot of younger kids from second, third and fourth grade were doing the tryouts, but there were not many fifth, sixth and seventh graders since they were more worried about studying for their OWL’s and NEWT’s than the inter-house Quidditch cup. That was not the case with Slytherin students. 

Carlos looked around and realized there were other kids trying out for Hufflepuff Seeker as well. There were only three more, but that was enough to make him really regret being there. 

“Hey, don’t worry. You’ll do great,” Lonnie’s voice startled him, she must have seen in his face just how worried he was. She put a hand on his shoulder to show support and beamed at him, warm and energetic as always. “You already have one vote,” she winked at him, making him smile despite the knot in his stomach. 

Lonnie was wearing her Quidditch gear too, her long dark hair held back in a ponytail and her goggles hanging from her neck. Carlos wasn’t surprised when she told him last year that she was part of Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team, and he knew that she played with professor Li almost every Summer when they went back to their house for the holidays, so she was an outstanding Chaser. 

“Thank you, Lonnie,” he told her just as she was called by the captain of the team, Dridan Findlay, a boy from sixth grade that looked as if he were in his twenties, with a hard Scottish accent that was more often than not impossible to understand. Carlos was extremely intimidated by him even when Lonnie assured him that he was nothing but a big puppy.

He watched her leave and start a conversation with Dridan. She looked really happy talking to him, all giggles and slight shoves, and Carlos wondered if she had a crush on Dridan. That wouldn’t surprise him, he had noticed that most of his friends were suddenly developing crushes or falling for other kids, except Mal, of course. That girl wasn’t one to daydream about boys like Evie or Lonnie, apparently, but everyone else was, which made him feel weird somehow. 

He was lost in his thoughts when he heard someone calling his name. He looked around and spotted Mal and Jay making their way to where he was, wrapped in their winter robes and scarves. He met them halfway, the borrowed Quidditch gear making it a bit difficult to walk, he had yet to get used to it, and he was worried that it may get in the way while he tried to catch the Snitch out in the field. 

“You nervous?” Mal asked once they were within earshot.

“A little, yeah,” he sighed, looking towards the field. “I really don’t know if I should do this.”

“What is with you and this negativity, Carlos?” Jay punched his arm playfully, perhaps a bit more excited about Carlos’ tryout than him. Carlos rubbed his arm, giving him a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, well... there are plenty of other kids that are more qualified than I am. Besides, I don’t think Dridan would take Ennis out of the team,” Hufflepuff’s actual Seeker, Ennis Lewis, was actually really good, he had caught the Snitch two times in three matches, but they had lost one of those games anyway. That year would be his last one on the team, but some younger kids still hoped they could wow the captain and take over his spot. 

“Please, that guy just caught the Snitch out of luck last time our teams played against each other!” 

“But he did! And in the match before that one, he’s good!” Carlos refuted his friend.

“And so are you!” Both boys turned their heads, surprised to hear Mal’s voice. She wasn’t one to get excited over Quidditch, not when it wasn’t about her own house beating Jay’s, so even to hear her giving a comment about the game or how Carlos played... it was unusual. “I’ve seen you practice Carlos, you’re good, you’re fast, isn’t that what being a Seeker is all about?

“Well… yeah,” Carlos said reluctantly.

“Case closed, then,” Mal declared. “Plus, they don’t have to kick Ennis to let you in. You can be like, his understudy or whatever those are called in Quidditch.”

“Alternate,” Jay said with a sigh, shaking his head.

“Whatever. Now go out there and kick their arses, Carlos,” Mal pointed at the field with a peculiar smile on her face. She almost looked proud.

Jay laughed hard at this, but his laughter turned into cheers as Carlos walked back to the middle of the field, ready, at least, to get that over with. He thanked Merlin and Einstein that neither of his friends could see his face now, the freckles on his cheeks practically disappearing as he blushed, overwhelmed by the attention. He glanced back at them one more time before Dridan finally called the first name for the tryouts, Penelope Fenn, who let out a yelp and took off in her broom. He caught a glimpse of blue right next to Mal, and he waved at Evie once he recognized her. It was a no brainer why she had arrived so late; the tryouts for Slytherin’s team were right on the other side of the field. He was glad that she hadn’t ditched him to go see Chad Charming.

 

-o-

 

Carlos didn’t get into Hufflepuff’s team. That came as a surprise to Jay, who honestly believed that the mere fact that the four of them were wishing for Carlos to get in would exponentially increase his chances of succeeding. He was gullible that way.

However, Jay realized that not getting in might have been what was best for Carlos. He was an extremely fidgety and nervous kid, and perhaps Quidditch would have only worsened that, he had to build some character first. And that was why he loved being around Carlos, he liked being able to help him and watch him grow. Plus, not having him as a rival when he played against Hufflepuff meant he could completely destroy his team and not feel so guilty about it.

Victoria was on Gryffindor’s team now, which also helped him boost his mood during practice and ultimately made him play better. He was having an awesome year all in all. 

When a colder weather rolled around and the leaves began to fall off the trees, Jay realized he had a massive crush on Victoria Allaway. She was everything Jay could think about, everything he wanted to think about –besides Quidditch, but that was permanently on his mind anyway. He got all giddy and nervous whenever she walked into the common room, where he had been spending most of his afternoons since the school year began, hoping to see her. She was a very active girl, and whenever she walked into the common room, it was only to go straight into her room to change out of her muddy clothes and into fresh clothes which she again got mud all over. She just couldn’t stay inside the castle, and Jay loved that. 

Wednesdays after Transfiguration, Jay had lunch with Evie and Carlos in the Great Hall (Mal had double potions on Wednesdays, and didn’t eat until they were all in their next class already). He was absentmindedly eating a turkey sandwich when Evie snapped her fingers in his face.

“Jay, enough with the daydreams already,” she demanded. “Carlos just asked you a question.”

Jay got himself out of his Victoria-trance and focused on Carlos, who looked apologetically at him.

“It wasn’t such an important question, I’m sorry,” he said.

“No, no, I’m sorry kid-o, what is it?”

“Well, I just wanted to know if any of you still had your Divination notes from last year. I feel like everybody in class hates me for being one year younger than them, I don’t think anyone would lend me their notes,” he explained quickly, but Jay stopped listening after the third word. Victoria had just entered the Great Hall with her best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” he said absentmindedly as he stood up, took his food and bag, and flew through the room to sit with his roommates in Gryffindor’s table just before Victoria and her friend sat by them.

“Tom,” Jay whispered urgently at his friend before he was even properly seated.

“Thomas,” he corrected him through gritted teeth.

“ _Thomas_ , if you like me even a little, pretend I just said the most hilarious thing.”

“What?” Thomas asked, his brow furrowed. “Mate, what are you-”

“Allright, now, laugh now!” Jay insisted and, shrugging, both Thomas and Rick bursted out laughing.

Victoria glanced briefly at them and Jay felt stupid butterflies on his stomach. She went immediately back to the conversation with her friend though, but that didn’t stop Jay from celebrating his tiny victory with a huge grin.

“For Merlin’s sake, did we just fake laugh to make Victoria look at you?” Thomas asked, letting his fork fall loudly to his plate, an indignant expression on his face.

Jay kept smiling at him and took a huge bite out of his sandwich.

He soon learned that Victoria liked Herbology almost as much as he liked Quidditch, and spent most of her days helping Professor Longbottom take care of the plants and flowers that grew in the greenhouse, that’s why she was always so muddy, which Jay couldn’t complain about, he liked that look on her. He’d like any look on her.

Of course, Jay used that piece of information in his favor. He hated his Herbology class, even more so since he stopped taking them with Mal and had nobody to bother to keep himself entertained, but he made an effort and paid attention to the professor until he found a legitimate doubt in his lesson, which he then asked in private when nobody was in the greenhouse except for Professor Longbottom. And Victoria.

“Professor, there is something nagging at my mind since last class that I didn’t have the chance to ask you,” he said in his best student voice.

“Yes, Almasi, what is it?” Professor Longbottom asked from behind the leaves of a Flitterbloom.

“Well, you said that the witch’s ganglion is used in the Potion of All Potential, but you never said what it does by itself. This has been bothering me, you see, my father has a vast plant collection at home, and I’ve never heard of this plant before,” he risked a glance at Victoria, who was looking at him as well, a small pot with a moving plant precariously held in her hands. 

“That’s right, it’s used in that potion. But, the interesting thing is, no one has discovered what the plant can do by itself yet, its magical properties are, up to this date, unknown. Apparently, it does nothing,” Professor Longbottom had set his tools down and was walking toward him, clearly excited one of his students had gone as far as asking him something –anything– outside of class. 

“The thing is,” he went on, raising his index finger at the glass ceiling. “When combined with the niffler’s fancy, which isn’t covered in class until your fifth year, Merlin knows why, the witch’s ganglion releases this juice, this- this strong smelling juice, that completely overpowers the rest of the smells in the potion, by the way, and it is that juice that works as a catalyst with the rest of the ingredients. It’s fascinating, Almasi, fascinating.”

Jay stared at him, his notebook in his hands, and simply nodded, pretending to ponder on what Professor Longbottom was telling him.

“Alright. Alright, well… that was it, Professor, that was my doubt.”

“I actually have a book on the matter, I can bring it from my office and lend it to you next time you stop by,” he added excitedly, putting his hands on his pockets, but he immediately regretted it when he realized he had mud all over his fingers. 

“That would be great Professor, I’ll come back soon to fetch it,” Jay said, glancing at Victoria again. She was smirking down at the small plant she was cleaning with a Q-tip. 

“Do come back, Almasi,” Professor Longbottom said as he tried to rub the mud out of his pants. 

And Jay did go back, four times actually, always making sure that Victoria would be there as well.

 

-o-

 

It was the middle of the school year when Carlos started to get a bit annoyed by this whole deal of the heart. He, being twelve, couldn’t for the life of him understand what all the fuss was about when it came to crushes and relationships, he had never really worried about all that and he couldn’t even imagine himself being as infatuated with anyone as Jay was with Victoria. Sure, she was a pretty girl with long eyelashes and nice legs that made every boy in the room turn their heads as she walked in, but he just couldn’t find himself turning his head along with them. 

And even though it was not the same reaction Evie inspired, it was similar, Carlos noticed. Both Victoria and Evie had a similar drawing effect, although it worked in completely different ways.

Evie had this charm, this natural air of royalty that simply captivated everyone she spoke to. Heads would turn when she smiled or laughed or simply flicked her hair off her shoulder. Victoria, on the other hand, had a different kind of magic and beauty, one that attracted everyone’s eyes just by walking into a room, as if her presence were as tall as the ceiling. Like a supernova. She was funny, and loud, and even if she wasn’t as tall or as regal as Evie, she made herself noticed even in the most crowded hall of the school.

Carlos liked Victoria, there wasn’t a reason why he shouldn’t, except maybe that every time she showed up, Jay would turn his head to look at her and ignore him completely. If they were supposed to be working on their homework together, Jay would change their plans to walk her to the Gryffindor tower; if he ran into her in the library, he would talk and joke with her until they were kicked out by the librarian, even if he had been there with Carlos and the girls. If Victoria so much as walked into the same room as Jay, he would try his hardest to catch her attention and sweet-talk her, telling her how good she was at Quidditch.

So yeah, Carlos liked Victoria, but only when Jay wasn’t around. He thought that maybe he could cope with that whole situation if it weren’t for Evie, who was in a very similar position as Jay’s, although in her mind, Victoria’s cool smile was replaced by Charming’s conceited one.

Carlos wondered if it was an age thing, and hoped he wouldn’t be like that come his fourteenth birthday. 

“Where are Evie and Jay?” Asked Mal as a form of greeting, sitting in front of Carlos on the Hufflepuff table where he had been reading. A couple of fourth years eyed her apprehensively and scooted a couple of feet away from her.

“Where do you think they are?” He replied, sounding as irked as he felt. Mal rolled her eyes and pulled her books out of her bag, sharing the sentiment. Carlos glanced at the Gryffindor table where Victoria sat among a group of other students –mainly boys– doing some schoolwork. Jay was sitting right next to her. 

“He’s worse than gum,” Mal said, noticing how Carlos’ eyes would fix on Jay every couple of seconds.

Yes, he is. Carlos wasn’t about to deny it. Everywhere and every time she showed up, Jay ditched them and flew to her side in the blink of an eye. 

“I wonder how he’ll react…” Mal crooned, a smirk on her face. It was the kind of smile that hid a secret. Carlos was about to ask what she meant when someone suddenly appeared next to Mal.

“Hey, Mal,” came Anthony Tremaine’s dragging voice. “Do you happen to have your Herbology notes with you?” He nodded at Carlos as if he had just acknowledged his existence, his signature half-smile half-sneer on his face. Mal just shrugged.

If Hogwarts had some sort of chart of the most popular kids in school, Carlos was sure that Chad and Anthony would be competing for the first place. Everybody in school knew about the rivalry between the Charming and the Tremaine families since Chad had been more than happy to spread his sad, sad family story to every girl who was willing to listen.

He told the story of how his mother, former maid of his father’s mansion, had it rough when she was a kid: first her dead mother, then her dead father, and then her stepmother, who exploited and treated her as a servant. Chad’s father literally saved her when they fell in love and got married. It came as a shock to her stepmother, Lady Tremaine, when she heard that her servant daughter had run of with the man she had always wanted her own daughters to marry. And it was even worse when she realized that he was a wizard, just like her and her daughters. So, full of jealousy, she married one of her daughters to a successful wizard whose career as a St. Mungo’s Healer impressed everybody.

So, Chad and Anthony were practically cousins, yet they didn’t get along that well. Or, at all. Carlos could only imagine how that situation must be like in their common room. 

Carlos knew the story almost by heart now, but of course that wouldn’t be the case if it weren’t for Evie, who constantly defended Chad’s actions toward Anthony Tremaine by telling the tragic story herself. Maybe that was just the reason Carlos liked Anthony more than he did Chad, Anthony didn’t go around sharing his background story with anyone. Not that he should, his own grandmother was actually the villain of the tale. In any case, Anthony didn’t go around making pretty girls do his homework in exchange for a second of his oh-so-precious time and a half-hearted smile. 

In fact, Anthony Tremaine was just interested in one pretty girl.

It was clear that Mal knew very well what Anthony’s intentions were, but she always said she didn’t know why he was so stubborn on going out with her when there were so many other girls he could go after. Girls that actually fancied him to begin with. Evie had her own theory, as she once told Carlos, ‘He likes complicated girls. From all the girls in school, even if some of them like him already, he happens to like the only one who won’t even look his way. She’s always ignored him.’ 

And yet, there he was, Anthony Tremaine, with all his might, trying to talk to Mal once more.

“They’re in my room, do you need them now?” Mal replied. 

“Kind of,” he pursed his lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll ask someone else.” Anthony waved his hand, winking at her before walking away, ignoring Carlos completely this time. Mal looked at him as he left, expressionless. Carlos wondered if she really didn’t fancy him, not even a little. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud thud noise of heavy books hitting the table as Evie sat next to him, causing Carlos to suppress a yelp.

“Hey, guys” Evie chirped with her usual smile, panting a little from carrying so much weight. “Was that Anthony? Did you turn him down again, Mal?” She grinned at Mal but only received an arched eyebrow back. 

“Are those even your books, E?” Mal retorted.

“Ha, funny,” but her smirk didn’t disappear. Carlos watched their interaction, maybe a little unsure of how to approach the subject. Were they fighting, were they just joking around? He was afraid he would never know the answer to that. He might be a genius (Jay’s words, not his) when it came to science and technology, but when put in any social situation and asked to follow the rules of society, he was lost. He sure was far from genius in that subject. 

“Where's Jay?” Evie quickly asked to move the conversation to safer topics.

“Where do you think?” Mal gestured with her head at the table behind her. Evie sighed, resting her elbows on the table and shaking her head.

“He’s got it bad, hasn’t he?” 

Carlos’ eyes went down to his own book to continue with his homework, he was already tired of that conversation.

“Well, it depends on what you mean by ‘got it bad.” Mal leaned on the table, looking at her friend with a sardonic smirk. “Jay’s got it bad for Vic, fact, but has he got it bad enough to do her homework for her, like someone else I know?” 

Evie froze on her spot, wide eyes fixed on her friend. “Please, Mal, don’t compare what I’m doing with Jay’s case,” she scoffed, trying not to appear taken aback by her comment. 

“Because doing Charming’s homework is so much different than Jay’s pining, right?” 

“You’re doing what?” Carlos finally raised his head from his books to look at Evie. 

“Alright, I’m helping him, so what? He’s really busy with Quidditch and he asked me to help him. Me. He doesn’t do that with anyone! He’s quite a hard worker,” Evie tried to defend herself, seemingly happy to be the one who Chad had chosen to trick. Mal rolled her eyes and huffed. 

“But he can’t do that,” Carlos insisted.

“He’s using you.” 

“He is not! He’s a gentleman and kind and-”

“Charming?”Carlos suggested sarcastically, which earned him a chuckle from Mal.

“Yes!” She cried, throwing Mal a pleading look. “He wouldn’t do that, not to me. He said I’m a very smart girl, and very pretty too. I think he likes me,” she added shyly, looking down at her hands with a sheepish smile on her lips.

“The guy’s a jerk!” 

“I couldn’t agree more with Carlos. Charming’s is a jerk and he’s known for tricking girls into doing his homework!”

“How would you know that, M? You don’t even talk to him, you don’t know him.”

“I don’t have to, I have eyes,” she shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest, sure of her words. “Besides, I do know him from all you tell us about him. You wouldn’t be able to stop talking about him even if there was an Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon loose in the castle.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Evie turned to Carlos beside her in search of some support. “I don’t talk that much about him, do I?” 

“Well, you do, actually. It’s getting tiresome,” Carlos pursed his lips “… just like Jay’s crush.”

“Oh, Merlin. Is it that bad?” 

“Sorry to break it to you princess, but yeah, you’ve got it just as bad as Jay”

 

-o-

 

Carlos sighed and a small cloud formed in front of his face. He was waiting in the benches of the Quidditch field, book on his lap, watching the Gryffindor practice as he waited for Jay to finish and help him with some Arithmancy homework he had been putting off. 

He watched in awe as Gryffindor’s Seeker caught the Snitch for the second time in today’s practice and released it to go after it a third time. 

It was somewhat funny how Jay had been actually astonished by the fact that Carlos didn’t get into Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team. He was clearly affected by that more than Carlos himself, even when he kept assuring him that it was nothing. He was fine, really. Making the team would have been nice, Carlos wouldn’t lie, but maybe it hadn’t been the right moment when he came to think of it, he was struggling to manage his busy schedule with the advanced classes, finding time to rest for a while so he wouldn’t pass out in the middle of the Great Hall, and _still_ have time for a social life. He wouldn’t have the time to practice anyhow.

He couldn’t help letting out a yawn, eyes still trying to keep up with what was happening on the field. Jay’s figure was always near Victoria’s, both of them smiling and laughing as they passed the Quaffle to each other, as flirting was part of the practice. 

Carlos was sleepily thinking about his History of Magic homework when a group of giggling girls a couple of the benches in front of him caught his attention. 

“... she really asked you out? Oh Merlin! What did you do?” They had their heads close together in secrecy.

“Well, I was flattered, even if I’m not into girls.”

“Gigi, If Victoria ever asked _me_ out on a date I would probably die right there and then.”

“You have a boyfriend, Clara!”

“True, but have you _seen_ her?”

The girls chuckled at the last comment, turning their heads at the field again, where the Gryffindor team was now on the ground having one final team huddle. It occurred to Carlos that some of the girls weren’t there to please their eyes with the male players only, as he had first thought. Female players were also attractive. 

“I heard that a guy in fifth grade asked her out,” the girl named Gigi said.

“Let me guess, she said no.”

“Pfft, of course she said no, she’s gay, that’s not even a secret. Boys are just too oblivious or stupid to notice it,” Clara added.

Gay. He wasn’t new to the concept, he was reminded of the models that his mother hired to promote her clothing, the young men with stylish long legs and tiny waists that looked too fragile to touch; Carlos remembered the conversations he overheard between them when he wasn’t paying attention to his books, talking about nothing but boys. Carlos hadn’t give it much thought at the time, he'd thought it was normal. However, he never considered that girls could also be gay, that much was new to him. But if Victoria was gay, then, well, that would explain a few things. 

He’d noticed that Victoria never accepted going out with any of the boys who asked her, and that she seemed much more touchy-feely with other girls than with boys. Carlos looked at her body language as Jay tried to lure her into his charms –he had seen every phase of Jay’s flirting technique in the last few weeks–, but she was completely unaffected by it. Jay was subtly but unmistakably flexing his arms as he talked to her, but she simply took a sip of her water bottle, eyes closed, not even noticing the show Jay was putting up for her. That must be why she talked to Jay with an easiness uncommon in other girls who were crushing over Jay; she wasn’t attracted to him. Victoria was into girls. How was realizing that just now?

“Carlos!” Jay’s voice broke his train of thought, jogging towards him to pick up his bag with a bright smile on his face. For some reason he had a bad feeling about it. “Hey man, I’m heading to the common room with Vic, you don’t mind, right?” He asked, way too hopeful.

This was not the first time that Jay did something like that, but this time the hurt stung a little more than usual. “Are you really ditching me again?” He frowned “You were the one who asked me if I could help you, and I told you that I was busy, but you insisted.” 

“I know, I know, and I feel terrible.” Jay looked back to where Victoria stood talking and smiling to another girl from the team (whose blushed cheeks didn’t seem to be caused by the effort of the practice, Carlos noticed). “It's just that we're having this Halloween themed party in the common room and Vic asked me if I wanted to go, and, well, I said yes, and I do sort of... want to go with her. ” And there it was, Jay gave him one of those pleading smiles he used when he wanted something. 

He hated himself for being so weak “Fine, go, but-”

“Thanks man, I own you one, seriously!” Jay didn’t let him finish, rushing immediately towards Victoria who was waving at Carlos with a smile on her face. He smiled back at her.

“But there’s something you need to know…” Carlos pursed his lips, watching them both walk out of the field. Saying he had a bad feeling was an understatement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story also has its own tumblr (!) so please visit at if-you-stay-with-me-for-ever | tumblr


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